


Lighting Fires

by Darkwalk



Series: Together AU [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bounty Hunters, Gangs, References to Drugs, Riots, TGAU, Violence, a lot of background murder, abuse of EDM, but not really, do not copy to another site, partial shattered glass, references to slavery, together au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:08:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28634514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkwalk/pseuds/Darkwalk
Summary: Megatron was never a gladiator. Unfortunately, Orion was.Yanked out of his life in the arena by an unpredictable ganglord, Orion tries to adapt to the world outside all while dodging the law, bounty hunters, and dangerously clever criminals. But there's a larger game going on, one that involves a corrupt Primacy. He's survived everything from arena riots to deathmatches. Surely there couldn't be much worse?
Relationships: Optimus Prime & Sideswipe & Sunstreaker, Orion Pax & Sideswipe & Sunstreaker
Series: Together AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098512
Comments: 14
Kudos: 28





	1. Drama Free ft. LIGHTS - Deadmau5

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for violence, riots, gangs, drug references, slavery references, death, mild gore, abuse of EDM music and way too much bass. I tried to tone down the violence when possible but warnings will be posted at the tops of the chapters.
> 
> Also, despite large amounts of violence and other things – please understand that I as the author do not support certain ideals and am not promoting violence as an answer, but showing it as a result of a society that disregards some of it's own citizens.
> 
> Original characters and places (i.e. - the Darklight, Lights Out, Highwire, etc) belong to me. 
> 
> Part One (Lighting Fires) is already complete. Updates are every other Friday.

The cheers of the crowd rushed over Orion in a familiar and unwanted wave. Above them, a patch of blue hovered between the towers. Sky. Vibrant and distant. He only had a few seconds to glance at it as a blade swung towards him again.

His opponent feinted to the left before lunging to strike at his right arm, already damaged from previous blows. Dodging back, Orion parried the blow with his own blade and used the momentum to twist, drawing the other mech close. It was enough for Orion to sweep his legs out from under him. The mech went down hard. His sword jerked up just fast enough to stop Orion's blade inches from his face. His arms shook. The smaller frame didn't have the strength to hold up against Orion's weight or stop the blade from reaching him.

They froze, blades still locked as the bell sounded and the referee called the match. Orion backed off and helped the mech up as the applause roared down from above. Knowing his part, he nodded his helm at the stands and gave a general wave while his opponent walked away.

Sideswipe was always much better at playing the crowd favorite. Bouncing on his heels just inside the gladiator waiting room, he said as much, “You have to actually look at the audience when you acknowledge them, you know. Otherwise they start to think you don't like them.”

“Oh no.” Orion murmured, gently bumping shoulders with Sunstreaker and handing over his weapons. They weren't allowed to keep them outside the training rooms or the arena floor. The guard turned on the jammers in his wrists that stopped him from using the blade mods in his arms. “Can't have that.”

The guard snorted, thankfully more amused than annoyed. It helped that their cell tended to cause the least amount of trouble, Sideswipe's mischief notwithstanding. Still, the bot gestured at the twins to get moving. “Your set starts in a klik.”

“Wish us luck!” Sideswipe cheered, picking up his own gladius and starting out onto the arena floor before the guard could become impatient.

Orion tipped his helm, wishing them luck as they left before taking his seat. The waiting room sat below the stands with the long front wall taken up by a one way window which allowed the gladiators to watch the match, and their cellmates, without being seen by the audience. Apparently, no one liked to see gladiators unless they were fighting in the ring.

Starting off easy, the twins sparred against each other to the crowd's amusement. They were always a good pair to have out on the floor, twisting around each other in moves that seemed effortless. Sideswipe's flirty winks to the crowd and Sunstreaker's looks certainly helped. Knowing they would be fine until they faced off against someone else, Orion let himself drift. He couldn't see the sky from here but if he kept his optics closed he could bring the color back. It had been rather pretty. A bit brighter than yesterday's, he thought, although Sunstreaker would be able to tell for sure. Somehow the mech could tell apart shades that all looked the same to Orion.

Halfway through the twin's routine, the guards brought more people in. Ordering the gladiators to budge over, they cleared one side and started forcing the new bots to take a seat. Whispers ran among the gladiators, eyeing the mecha with sharp looks and suspicion. Today wasn't a death match day. Why were they bringing bait mechs in?

Seated near the middle, Orion remained where he was and kept a wary optic on anyone moving towards him. There'd been rumors this morning about an upcoming death match but the next one shouldn't have been scheduled for another few orns at least. His frown grew as one of the bait mechs decided not to wait to be shoved into a seat and plopped himself next to Orion. The guard didn't seem to care and merely started moving others.

“Wow you're a big fella! Did you win your fight?” A megawatt smile beamed up at him below a gleaming visor. “I'm Jazz, by the way.”

Orion stared at the smaller frame for a moment, troubled. The only time they had nonscheduled death matches was when wealthy patrons payed for them to happen. That was bad. That was really really bad because now he didn't know who would be out in the death match today. And what if they called on the twins? What if it was him? His tank roiled uneasily. He had a decent amount of confidence that he could defeat a good portion of the gladiators here, but killing bait mechs never failed to sicken him. The last time either of the twins had been in a death match, they'd fallen silent for joors.

“You don't talk much, do yah?” The bait mech peered at him. His accent sounded strange. Definitely like nothing he'd ever heard in the Neutral Territories before.

The mech appeared unconcerned about his pending doom. Perhaps he didn't know. Would it be kinder to tell him? The distress emanating from some of the other bait mechs said otherwise. It would be better to let him think he had a chance out rather than spending his time panicking.

So distracted by this deviation from their schedule, Orion hadn't noticed when the twins' spar had turned into a fight with another. A quick glance showed them facing off with a familiar mech, one who thankfully tended to follow the rules and didn't go for cruel strikes. Letting out a quiet vent, he leaned back on the bench and shuttered his optics again. Today would be fine. All of them had already fought today, the twins fight ongoing, so they most likely wouldn't be put out into the death match. The crowd would want new faces. And even if they had to participate, they would survive. It would be fine.

A sudden squeak from close by had him opening his optics, helm turning enough to glance over his shoulder. The bait mech followed his gaze. About two rows behind them, a big orange gladiator stood towering over one of the much smaller bait mechs with a terrible grin on his face, crowding the poor bot out of the guard's line of sight behind restless fighters and bigger frames. Often picking fights and making others take the blame, Cinder was the sort of gladiator Orion absolutely did not want anywhere near himself or his own cell. If that mech had been the one out in the arena at that moment with the twins, Orion wouldn't have dared look away until the fight was over.

What to do about this though, he didn't know. On one servo; if he got the guards' attention, Cinder would pay him or the twins back for it later and none of them needed that kind of attention on them. It would be better to keep his helm down. On the other servo; Cinder would probably hurt the mech before anyone had a chance to-

The gladiator shoved the bait, hard. He fell backwards and banged his legs against the bench. As Cinder reached down for him, the obviously terrified mech kicked out sharply and his pedes slammed into Cinder's face. Orion heard a sharp crack. Cinder jerked back with a surprised howl, energon flooding out between his fingers and down his cheeks, clutching at his face.

In an astrosecond, it descended into chaos. The rest of Cinder's cell rushed the bait mech, turning into a bloody pile as the guards waded in to break up the fight and shoved gladiators out of their way. Orion snapped his battle mask on. Standing, he started to back up and put some distance between himself and the fight. His bait mech shadow seemed to have a working processor as he followed suit and kept Orion between himself and the rest of the room. As they tried to stay out of it, some idiots decided to take advantage of the guards' distraction and attacked them from behind. A few of the bait mechs near the door slipped out under the shouting and screaming. Orion backed up further as it devolved from a brawl to a riot.

A femme palmed a smuggled knife and slit the throat of a mech from a rival cell before stabbing him in the spark for good measure. Several bots rushed to the dead mech's side, hurling threats and fists. Other cells immediately joined in to defend or attack the other gladiators.

Pressing against the window, he checked the arena floor to see the twin's fight thankfully hadn't changed. Around them, others trying to avoid the carnage crouched up against the walls and shifted out of the way as bodies were shoved and pushed around. The guards shouted for backup over their comms while the brawling mass grew more violent. A body was thrown across the room. Someone screamed.

A heavy bench went flying towards Orion in a dark blur.

He didn't think about yanking the bait mech out of the way.

By the time he did think about it, he'd already pulled the both of them to the side. The bench slammed into the reinforced glass with enough force to crack it, sending shards flying out into the arena. He shoved the small mech behind him. From their new position in a corner, Orion couldn't see the twins but someone surely had noticed what had happened. Optics swept around the mayhem as new guards burst in. Riot gas canisters slid across the floor, trailing stinging white smoke as the guards wrestled rioters into submission.

One came over and made him lay on the ground, checking him for weapons before telling him not to move. The bait mech was forced to lay down next to him. As they waited for the guards to finish, riot gas stinging their optics, the mech turned to look at him with his mouth twisted in a strange way. Orion couldn't understand his expression with the visor covering half his face, but still felt the keen gaze.

“You know, I don't think I could've dodged that in time. Was lookin' at the door too much.”

So the mech had thought of escape. Orion had wondered if he'd try to use the opportunity. It was a pity they'd been on the wrong side of the room. Not that he thought the mech could have gotten far without getting caught but still. For a moment, he struggled to remember what the mech had called himself before giving up. It didn't really matter. In all honesty, he shouldn't have done anything. The bench had hit exactly where the bait had been standing, and considering how hard it had hit the window, would most likely have crushed the smaller frame.

“Don't thank me.” Orion whispered back. “That would have been a kinder death than whatever happens out on the floor.”

“Then why save me?”

A long silence fell over them as Orion couldn't find any words, the 'I didn't mean to' caught in his throat. His optics skipped away from that too blue visor and the feeling that he was being cut apart by it's gaze. The mech chuckled. “Who woulda thought? A gladiator who don't like death. Thanks though, I appreciate it.” A cheeky grin crept across his face, “Guess you can talk after all.”

He still couldn't remember the mech's name. Something short and ….. upbeat. A bit like the mech himself. Now that he was taking a moment to properly look, he noted the way his white armor reflected the yellow lighting but remained vibrant. Unlike all of the gladiators in the room with faded and patchy paint jobs, his glowed whole and hale save for some deep cuts on the black underplating of his side. Orion couldn't see the mech's front but the damage most likely spread all the way around. Red and blue accent stripes raced across the protruding chestplates and rounded armor that surely couldn't hold up to a gladiator's fist. A racer frame most likely. Flashy, lightweight, and impractical.

The visor remained inscrutable.

Still the mech lay relaxed against the grimy floor, not the least bit worried about the situation with lips curled up like he had just been given an unexpected gift. Orion didn't see what was so funny. He tried to ignore how the mech's helm horn's looked like Sideswipe's even if they were higher on the helm and curved a bit more. None of it mattered. Not even remembering his name.

'Jazz,' a traitorous part of his processor whispered. 'His name is Jazz.'

He knew well what the bait mech could see as he studied him back. A too-tall frame with faded red and blue paint, scars littering his battered blocky plating and cracked edges. Wary blue optics set above a face mask that never seemed to do a very good job of hiding his expressions. Surely he could see the old blood and rust caked into his joints? He would have seen how Orion loomed, more often than he meant to, although it came in handy often enough. Still, he knew with certainty that the bait had noticed the smell of spilt energon coming off his new injuries and the splashes of blood on his frame. He lay within arms reach of a mech who could rip him in half without any effort and simply didn't care.

While the guards started sending injured parties to the medbay and others back to their cells, the twins and their opponent were brought in. Their optics went wide at the damage. Since they'd gained minor damage in their matches today, Sunstreaker's being the worst with a smashed elbow joint, the guards urged Orion up and pushed his cell towards the door with a guard. Orion glanced over his shoulder to try and catch one last look at the bait mech.

He couldn't see the small frame from his position but his plating prickled with the certainty that he was being watched. Mentally snorting at his own silliness, he tried to shake it off. The bait mech was harmless, or he wouldn't have gotten caught in the first place. Orion would never see him again anyways.

Sideswipe immediately launched into questions as soon as they were out in the hall, “What happened?! We heard a crash and saw the window was cracked! Seriously, cracked! I didn't think anything short of using a blaster on it would even scratch that thing!”

“Are you alright?” Sunstreaker murmured. His optics flicked up and down Orion's frame.

He shrugged. “I'm fine. Cinder went after a bait mech and got a broken optic for it-”

“Bait mech? There's no death match today?” Sideswipe turned to the guard. “Did they change the schedule?”

“Yeah. New match in a groon.” The guard replied amiably.

Sunstreaker steered the conversation back, “A fight broke out?”

“Ah-huh.” Orion lowered his voice as they turned down the hall to the medbay and noted the extra guards by the doors. “It turned nasty quick and someone threw a bench. That's what broke the window.”

“Glad we missed that.” Murmured Sunstreaker before falling silent as they came upon the medbay. With too many injured, the trio sat against the wall outside while they waited for their turn.

Orion sighed. He really hated riots. People only got hurt.

Others cells sat sparsed out in the hall as well with more than the usual amount of guards in case anyone had any bright ideas. Though long used to boredom, Sideswipe never handled sitting down for long periods of time very well. He quickly fell back on a good distraction and decided to amuse them with a story about a band of knights and a monster in a crystal forest. This had been one he'd been working on for the better part of the last few days and the mech clearly relished retelling it. Anyone within audio-range surrupticiously listened in, including a few guards hovering closer than normal. Stories were a good commodity to have and thankfully, Sideswipe always had several to tell. As long as the guards hovered closer to them, the cells that didn't like them couldn't do more than make rude gestures. It seemed the earlier riot had worn out too many though, as even the usual suspects in hostilities did little more than weakly glare in the trio's direction and then ignore them.

A long time passed. Enough that Orion decided the death match had to have already started or been partially over if they'd gone ahead with it. The three of them had gotten lucky and dodged this round. Dozing, he listened fondly to Sideswipe's voice and gently ran a servo up Sunstreaker's undamaged arm. Their names being called jerked them back to reality.

They entered one of the side rooms of the medbay to see their favorite medic scowling at them. “I should hope none of you were stupid enough to be in that riot.”

“We weren't!” Sideswipe declared, helping his brother onto the medberth while a new guard settled by the door.

Something guilty must have shown on Orion's face, as Ratchet straightened even further (and how did he do that? How did he know?) and narrowed his optics. “Orion?”

“I was there but I wasn't in it. All my injuries are from the match.” Really, there hadn't been anything else he could have done but their medic's worrying always made him feel bad. He removed his face mask and took a seat next to Sideswipe to wait his turn.

“Mine are minor!” the red mech piped up. “My oh-so-lovely brother on the other servo-”

“Stuff it.” Sunstreaker snapped.

Ratchet only gave an exasperated sigh and started looking over the gold twin. “Quite moving.” His mouth pinched down into a craggy line set deep in his face. The twins quieted, although not for as long as the medic would have obviously liked.

Sideswipe leaned over to get a better view of the mech. “Those are new dents on your shoulders.”

“Drop it Sideswipe.”

Orion shifted to see and noted a few suspicious dents curving around their favorite medic's right shoulder pauldron. To his experienced optics, they looked like they'd been made by a large servo. He tensed, angry and worried. Ratchet must have caught the movement out of the corner of his optics because he turned to look over his shoulder and glared. “Shut it.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“Yeah, he didn't say anything Doc.” Sideswipe mimicked cheekily, “Just me and myself and-”

Ratchet slammed one of his tools down. “Oh shut up! You're not as funny as you think you are.” When the pair only looked back meekly, he huffed. “I've clamped the fuel lines but this will have to be replaced. Do you two need anything replaced while I try to find the right parts?”

At their denials (and a sharp look over their frames for good measure), the medic headed towards the door grumbling. “If I ever get a break, I'm going to reorganize that Primus-damned SIN against medical efficiency. One of these days someone's going to die because I can't find the right part fast enough-”

After he left to check their medical storage room, their guard peaked out the small portal window in the door and whirled back to them. “Reading upload and those pictures, now pay up.”

She stretched to hand over a datapad to Orion. Tucking it into an empty pocket of armor, he gave her a couple bottles of circuit speeders in return. There were some advantages to bigger frames, such as more space to hide things.

“Do you still have access to that paint program Jumpstart was selling?” Sunstreaker asked.

“Ugh, no.” An optic roll. “He already traded it. Could you pay for it anyways?” The femme focused on Orion, sudden suspicion aimed at his frame. With a cheerful grin, Sideswipe clapped his servos together to draw her attention towards him instead.

“Not at the moment with this trade. But it was something we were hoping for later. Guess we'll just have to wait for another one to come through.”

That seemed to settle the guard. She snorted. “Doubt you'll be that lucky. So what actually happened with the riot? I heard one of the bait mechs went beserk.”

Ratchet returned soon after, the guard going silent as the medic worked and patched up their frames. Considering their company, they kept their conversations short and quiet. Orion still took advantage of briefly squeezing their medic's servo out of the guard's sight when he could. Squeezing back, Ratchet's optics crinkled in the corners before he pulled away and drew out his bluster and grumpiness. It was the only safe way to show caring in the arena. “Alright. You're good now so I better not see the three of you back in here anytime soon!”

“But don't you just love us Hatchet?”

Puffing up at the teasing, Ratchet waved a welder in Sideswipe's direction with the end still glowing and hot. “Don't you call me that! If I have to switch places with Paradigm one more time because you drove him up the wall-!”

“He doesn't have such a lovely bedside manner as you do though!”

“OUT!” Ratchet bellowed.

Breaking into the argument with an impatient sigh, the guard marched them out of medbay. Ratchet's blistering swears followed them. He must have picked up some new ones recently. Some of the waiting bots snickered, long used to the trio winding the more verbal medic up. In the metacycle or so since Ratchet had been brought in, the rumors of his attitude and stubbornness in the face of very dangerous gladiators had only grown. Some took it as a challenge to try and push him around whenever possible. Others just enjoyed the fact that he actually tried to fix them instead of just slapping a patch on whatever leaked energon.

The trek back to their cell remained quiet. It had been a long stressful day and Orion really wanted to upload the reading program. That alone nearly made up for all the drama he'd had to deal with. Of course, he wouldn't be able to test it out until the next time he ended up in the medbay where he could hopefully try reading the labels on some of the medical containers without anyone noticing, but still. And the twins now had new pictures from Outside to talk about. He hoped they were really nice ones, like the ones they had from a city across Cybertron called Ibis. Ibex? Or something. It had shiny towers. Sunstreaker had spent joors staring at that one trying to catalog all the different colors and making up names for the ones he didn't know with input from Sideswipe and Orion. Not that he ever asked for their input, but he got it all the same.

Any ideas he had for a relatively peaceful evening were cut short at the sight of a mech in their cell. Particularly, a small and short mech with a blue visor and a lost look on his face. Their guard didn't react much better than they did.

“What the frag?! You're not supposed to be in there!” She checked the log on the doorpad, servos flying over the keys. The not-dead-but-should-be bait mech hunched his shoulders, strangely nervous considering how calm he'd been earlier.

“One of the guards put me in here?”

His accent had disappeared. Orion's frown deepened as their guard, nearly hissing through her denta, commed whoever had last unlocked their cell. “What do you mean, keep him with the gladiators?! Why's he still aliv- Well, don't come crying to me if they kill him. He looks annoying.”

The mech in question only looked at her in innocent confusion. How he was pulling that off with a visor, Orion couldn't figure out. Something about his expressive face and hunched posture as he leaned against the wall maybe. The energon slowly drying on the mech's more battered frame did make him seem a bit pathetic. How had he survived the death match though? Bait mechs never survived the death matches. He would have had to kill whichever gladiator had survived the rest of the slaughter....

“Why can't we just put him-” The guard threw a servo up in frustration, “Well, it would be nice if my colleagues told me things, now wouldn't it? Who was gonna... Oh frag off. If you don't like my attitude, get promoted and then fire me... Yeah, if I don't do it to you first. Fine! Fine. If he dies, it's on you.” Shutting off her comm, she glared fiercely at the bait before whirling on the trio.

“We're out of space and the uppers don't want him in the bait cells. He's with you till tomorrow. Don't kill him.”

After unlocking the door, she ushered them in and closed everything tightly, all the while keeping a narrow gaze on the bait mech. With another heavy look thrown their way, the guard left. Staying to one side of the room, the trio collectively stared at their new companion. Sunstreaker seemed to find his words first. “What the frag?”

“You should be dead.” His brother added. “We saw you earlier in the waiting room, didn't we?”

“And here I was thinkin' you'd be too busy watchin' the clean up to notice me.” The mech smiled, accent firmly back in place.

Sunstreaker scowled, “You were laying on the floor next to our cellmate.”

“I was. I was. So, are ya'll gonna try and kill me or not?”

Surprised by the blunt statement, the trio glanced at each other. Orion shifted uneasily and dipped his helm. With a quick flick of his optics to his cellmates, Sideswipe's frown grew more pronounced before he stepped forward and started moving around the bait mech, studying him up and down. He couldn't circle Jazz completely with the mech's back to the wall though. “That depends. How'd you survive the death match?”

“Maybe Lady Luck just loves me.” The visor tilted a little, giving the appearance that he'd seen through the mech's threat and deemed it amusing enough to play along. “To be honest, I just kept outta the way while everyone else chased each other around. Your guards are mean though. Kept shootin' at me when I didn't wanna play with the others.”

Orion snorted. He could just imagine the mech strolling along the edge of the arena nonchalantly only for the guards to try to shoo him back to the fight. Generally, they reserved the shooting for those rare occasions someone tried climbing the walls into the stands.

At the sudden noise, Jazz shot him a dazzling smile. “Have to say, I wasn't impressed all that much by the gladiator they pitted against us survivors. Mech practically offed himself when he tripped over a body and fell on a mace. Seriously, what kind of self-respectin' gladiator trips and falls on a weapon? I'm gonna demand a refund for that kind of nonsense. I'm disappointed.”

The twins stared for a long moment. To be fair, their first real look at the mech had been lying on the floor and then cowering in their own cell, so this blatant disregard for how a bait mech normally acted probably threw them off a bit. Orion could only recall how little worry the mech had shown earlier. And the pretend fear for the guard. Obviously he knew how to act. He probably knew how to lie too.

“Who did you fight?” Moving casually, Orion took a seat on the large berth they shared.

While the visor turned his way, he had a feeling Jazz's optics remained on the twins. “Someone named Voltage. Tall and heavy built, silverish.”

“Shoots lightning out of his servos sometimes?” Sideswipe added on, his voice strangled as he studied the mech over again. Orion stiffened in surprise. The twins edged over to him but remained standing. “The mech who is- was absolutely not clumsy enough to just die by falling on a weapon.”

“That right?” A shrug. “Seemed clumsy to me. Anyone who can't dodge a little kick in the shins and trips themselves ain't very coordinated, huh?”

A long silence fell over their cell. The trio regarded Jazz with a newfound wariness. Jazz watched them back with no small amount of quiet glee and possible mania. Or maybe it was the same amusement as earlier. Damn the visor, Orion couldn't tell! After a few moments, something sharp in the mech's face softened and he sat down on the floor. “I never caught your name.”

“Orion Pax.” He recognized the peace offering and gave in return. The twins definitely didn't like his decision to answer but Orion would have much rathered they just talk than turn to fighting. While he may not understand exactly how Jazz had taken out someone as dangerous as Voltage, he could understand small did not equal harmless and the mech must be something else if he'd survived this long.

“This is Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. You introduced yourself earlier as Jazz, right?”

“So you were listening!”

“There's never a point in making friends with bait mechs. No one survives.” He shrugged, glad the tension had left. Sideswipe hopped onto the berth.

“So who are you, Jazz the survivor? Are you really good at fighting? Wait, you have to be to- Well, what kind of fighting do you do? How did you really take out Voltage? If you're so good how did you end up as a bait mech anyways?” As the questions grew, so did Jazz's stifled smile until he burst out laughing.

Jazz waved a servo at the twin's sudden scowls. “Hey mech, I'm not laughin' at you! Was just surprised is all. Thought you were gonna kill me a few kliks ago?” He teased before asking a question of his own. “How much do you know about things outside the arena?”

“We don't know a lot about the Outside. We only leave when the arena hires us out as bodyguards for events.” And that never happened as often as Orion would like. They had to be on their best behavior to be considered for that. But the events were always interesting even if no one ever explained what was going on. And getting to see the world Outside and being away from the matches always made up for the shock collars they had to wear.

Orion gently pulled Sunstreaker into sitting down too. With a glare thrown at their new cellmate, Sunny settled. The day had been too long for him to keep standing.

“Hm.” Jazz propped his chin on his servos. “Simple version is; I slagged off some folks. They apparently got beat with the stupidity stick and decided to put me in here to die instead of just killin' me.”

“I believe they were hoping you'd give some form of entertainment as payment for the trouble you've caused.” A new voice piped up from the door. Stepping out from the side in the hall where he'd been hidden, a mech with cold optics focused on Jazz. “Your attempts to stall with that riot were disappointingly pathetic.”

He only smirked, seeming unimpressed. “Weren't me that started it! If ya'll checked the tapes, you'd know that.”

“There will be a special event tomorrow.” Ignoring the denial, the mech-who-was-not-a-guard continued. “Pitting you against the gladiators back to back until you fall. I'm sure the owners will be happy to get rid of some of their weaker stock and can earn quite a bit from the spectacle. How many do you think you'll take out? Five, six if you're lucky?”

Orion's plating pricked. He and the twins stayed quiet and hopefully unnoticed to the mech with enough authority to come down to the gladiator cells without a guard. If what he said was true, tomorrow would be horrific. Losing one or two gladiators to an occasional death match was one thing. But a full on slaughter until one mech died....

“Well that's just wasteful.” With a scoff, Jazz waved a servo at the mech to shoo him away. “Tell your masters they're still cowards for lettin' others do their dirty work.”

“They'll see you in the arena. I assure you, they'll enjoy the show.” Sneering, the mech stalked away.

The trio resumed their staring at the small frame with energon splashed on his plating and nails picking at a stubborn pebble in one of his tires. Sunstreaker narrowed his optics. “You're the reason they added a death match today.”

“Again. Cowards couldn't be bothered. That's what pretendin' to be high and mighty gets you. Laziness and stupidity.” Another annoyed huff.

How was Jazz not bothered by the coming slaughter and his assured death? Orion wondered if maybe Jazz was crazy. Or just overconfident. None of this made a lot of sense and seemed to involve players like the owners of the arena and other very powerful individuals, none of whom Orion knew anything about.

Sideswipe started to bounce in place from nerves. Jumping off the berth, he paced the cell while throwing glances at Jazz and out into the hall in case any other messengers showed up. “You really don't seem upset that you're going to die tomorrow. We might have to fight you!”

“Thought cellmates didn't have to go into death matches against each other?” Why that of all things gave Jazz pause, Orion couldn't say.

“Yes, but you're not our cellmate. You're a bait mech and this is temporary.” He explained.

Giving a hum like, 'huh, what do you know?', the mystery mech flicked his pebble at Sunstreaker's legs and earned a scowl. He shrugged and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Don't worry too much. Tomorrow ain't gonna happen.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Sunstreaker kicked the pebble back at Jazz sharply. It bounced against the black and white mech's armor. Rolling his helm, Jazz tucked his servos behind his helm and stretched out, smile sharpening once more.

“Do you wanna see more of the outside?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to head canons and snippets: [TOGETHER AU](https://darkwalk.tumblr.com/tagged/tgau)


	2. Welcome – DVBBS & Heartkiller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: non-graphic violence, explosions, & implied death
> 
> Time:  
> Astrosecond: Cybertronian measurement of time, roughly equivalent to .498 Earth seconds  
> Klik: A minute  
> Breem: Almost ten minutes (8.5 earth minutes)  
> Groon: An hour  
> Joor: 6.5 hours/groons.  
> Sol (short for Solarcycle): 1 Cybertronian day. Only used to writing dates. When speaking, people use 'Day'. Roughly 40 hours/groons.  
> Orn: Equivalent of a week (13 earth days)  
> Decacycle: 3 weeks/orns  
> Metacycle: 13 months  
> Stellarcycle: equivalent of 6 years  
> Vorn: (equivalent of 83 earth years)

He couldn't remember who had told him that dead stars burned unfathomably cold. While that didn't seem to make a lot of sense (how could something burn cold?), Orion understood that everything Outside; all of the people, the cities, life itself, built upon contradictions and puzzling little details that never failed to fascinate him when he could get his servo on them. But he also never held out hope for feeling the terrible cold of a dead star.

Jazz was one of those puzzling contradictions Orion couldn't quite catch in his processor. His shadow didn't match his frame, his expression didn't match his action didn't match the situation didn't match the idea of what he should have been...... Orion couldn't think of anyone else who'd ever confused him so much. He wished he could have seen the fight. Maybe then he could get a better feel of the mech.

“Did you see the sky earlier?” Orion whispered to Sunstreaker as they lay on the berth and dozed. Sideswipe rested while they kept watch in the dark cell, unwilling to recharge through the night with Jazz and whatever his plans were. Soon enough, they'd switch and Sunny would take his turn sleeping. Until then, the mech kept picking at his new welds in nervousness. Ratchet would throw a fit when he found out. “What color was it?”

“Sky blue.”

The barest whisper had Orion making a face, pressed up against Sideswipe's midsection as he was. “You said that last time and they were different shades of blue.”

When Sunstreaker didn't answer, Orion lifted his helm enough to look into his optics. “Is it the same color as Jazz's visor?”

Sunny turned to squint at the motionless lump by the wall and a memory of color. None of them could tell if he really slept or if he was only faking it, so they'd left him be. The visor remained dark. “Close. His visor color is....deeper? It's more colorful. I think it's called cyan.”

They didn't speak for a long while after that. Enough time passed that Sunstreaker got a turn to rest and so did Orion. Sometime during his slumber, someone insistently tugged on the inside of his elbow and dragged him into wakefulness. He held still, waiting, feeling Sunstreaker awake behind him and out of view. Cracking his optics open, he saw Sideswipe's surprisingly solemn face just in front of his. A quick grin flitted across his lips but he stayed quiet. Orion wondered why until a soft sound caught his audios.

“ _-in my struts and in my lines, weary of the fading time, I have enough to fill my cup-_ ”

Jazz was singing. Low enough to be heard by the berth and perhaps just outside the door in the hall but not loud enough to carry and draw attention. The rhythm sounded like something the guards would hum every once in awhile, either in boredom or when they'd been out drinking and stumbled back to their shift on wobbly pedes, but he didn't recognize the words. Jazz had a good singing voice, rough and drawling and carrying the tune like thick syrup. Orion crinkled his optics at Sideswipe in thanks. The mech winked back and let out a soft vent, listening carefully.

Partway through the fifth or so verse, the song fell silent. Orion felt Sunstreaker tense at his back and wondered if Jazz had realized they were awake and listening. Slowly, ever so slowly, he inched his head up to peer over Sideswipe's helm.

An unfamiliar shape stood outside the door. Skitters of instinctive tension prickled along his plating like flash fire, his fingers twitching for a weapon. With the red twin's helm turned the wrong way and Sunstreaker behind him, neither of the twins could see the door but they must have felt him freeze as they did the same. How the pits had someone gotten close without them hearing?!

Two ringed optics stared at the spot of shadow sitting by the wall for a long moment. With a huff, Jazz flickered his visor on and greeted their guest. “Don't wanna sing along?”

“You're aware of my singing skills.” The newcomer murmured just as quietly, their accent notably different that Jazz's. It felt sharper, the sounds far more crisp and sharp but melodic. “Lights is here. She's very unhappy you were captured, sir.”

“Well, I reckon we can't leave her waitin', can we?” He turned to the trio before Orion could shutter his optics and pretend he wasn't watching. “You three wanna come with us? It's a one time only sort of deal.”

Damn. Orion wondered how long Jazz had known they were awake or if they'd fooled him at all. With a sigh now that the jig was up, Sunstreaker sat up and climbed over his cellmates and off the berth, the other two right behind him. He stalked warily to the door, keeping out of arm's reach in case the bot on the other side tried to reach through the bars, and eyed the hallway to make sure it remained clear. His voice hovered just above hearing level. “Are you going to tell us what you're planning now?”

“Sir-,” Newcomer started. Orion thought they were frowning sternly at the trio, but it was difficult to tell with only their optics providing light. Apparently the trio wasn't a part of this plan. Jazz eased up into standing and gestured at the lock. The other bot tisked, stepping close enough for Orion to note non-reflective plating in the dark, before fiddling with the keypad.

“Only if you wanna come, o'course. But you need to decide in the next klik. We can't be stayin'.” Jazz offered before turning to his friend to let them think.

The trio stared at each other in varying degrees of horror. On one servo, if they were caught trying to escape their life would become intolerable and very short. They'd regret living by the end of the day. On the other servo, they'd already be in so much trouble for Jazz escaping. The only possibly good option involved hoping Jazz really could get them all out of here like he thought he could.

Orion was a little surprised Jazz was offering. The mech had to know gladiators were casteless. Unless he didn't care?

Sideswipe's optics lit with hope, plating practically vibrating with the possibility of Outside and escape. Sunstreaker remained tense, worried about the consequences but something brittle and bright  
grew as he stared at his twin's rising excitement. They both turned to Orion. Neither would leave without him. Bowing his helm for a moment, Orion shivered through the fear eating away at his insides and shoved it down. What they had here wasn't a life. This was no way to live. The chance of something more was worth whatever came after, even if they failed.

“Ratchet.” He whispered when he raised his helm.

The twin's faces turned hard edged and flinty. Sideswipe turned back to Jazz and took a half-step forward so they could speak without raising their voices. “We can't leave without Ratchet. He's a medic.”

“We don't have time to pick favorites throughout the building.” Newcomer snipped in exasperation, even as the lock disengaged and the energy bars dissipated.

Sunstreaker's sternest 'try me' expression grew. “Then go. We'll find Ratchet and get ourselves out.” 'Or die trying' remained unsaid, although the other two obviously heard it. The bot gave Jazz a weak glare, optics begging him not to mess up their plans anymore than he already was. Mouth twitching, the visored mech stared at them for a long moment.

“Where's the medic quarters?”

“Four floors up, west side above the medbay.” Newcomer hissed before the trio could answer.

“That'll add, what, a breem at most?”

Hope flared. At Jazz's widening grin, Newcomer gave another tisk, glowered, and gestured sharply for everyone to get out of the cell already. They all stepped out on silent pedes, the trio eyeing both ends of the hallway for guards and noting that the other gladiators hadn't woken. Wiggling a little in glee, Jazz whispered, “We could always use another medic. It'll be like shopping on the way out.”

That sounded a little threatening. Orion traded looks with the twins while following after Jazz, but didn't comment. Jazz seemed friendlier than the guards and it didn't sound like he was a fan of wasteful killing. Hopefully Ratchet wouldn't be too upset that they were blindly dragging him and themselves into another sort of service. He wasn't sure he knew what Jazz wanted.

As they passed each cell, something odd caught his optics. The keypads on all the doors had the unlocked symbol lit. Insistently tapping the twin's elbows, he silently pointed. Sunstreaker sucked in a sharp vent. Newcomer looked back to see what was taking them so long and rolled their optics, making a sharp gesture to move already.

Jazz paused at the end of the hall and made a motion with his servos for Orion to kneel a bit. Doing so, the mech whispered in his audio. “I can unlock the cells but that's it. I can't give them anything more than a chance.”

Relieved, Orion smiled and dipped his helm in thanks. “That's more than most of the others could ever hope for.”

Getting all the gladiators out would be impossible and he knew it, even if Jazz had more help waiting. But a chance? A real chance at escape was far more than any of them ever had or hoped for. And Orion would have bet his new reading program that at least some of the others would notice the unlocked doors and take off before the guards came around.

Speaking of, a couple familiar faces lay unconscious in the stairwell. Jazz's companion shrugged at them after closing the door and started climbing the stairs over the bots. “They're not dead but they might be if they don't wake up before the gladiators do. I'm Highwire, by the way.”

In real lighting, they could see Highwire much easier. Mainly gray with some dark blue plating, the bot had an intricate key decal drawn across their back between winglets. They stood almost two helms higher than Jazz, just barely shorter than the twins, and didn't look much like a fighter in Orion's opinion, well used to much larger and sturdier builds. But Highwire's optics darted around shrewdly to watch their surroundings with an air of readiness, so he had not doubt they wouldn't have a problem taking out more guards. A small symbol, a visor with two curved triangles under each side, flashed in the center of their chest as they moved.

“I'm Sideswipe!” The mech took the opportunity to speak louder now that they wouldn't be overheard. While introducing the other two, he scrambled up the stairs after the bot. “Do you work for Jazz? What do you do? Do you have to rescue him all the time?”

“Hey!” Jazz hissed.

Highwire made a noise that could have been a bitten of snicker, peering through a window in the door at the top of the stairwell before throwing back. “Yes, various things, and sometimes.”

“Why aren't we worried about the cameras?” Sunstreaker still whispered, checking behind them in case the guards had woken.

Jazz wiggled his digits at them. “It's covered. They're set on a loop.”

“Quiet!” Highwire shushed everyone. “I'm opening the door.”

The next floor up appeared identical as the one below, down to the cells being unlocked. Orion wondered how long Highwire had been working on all that. Surely they couldn't have done it all themselves? Wait, someone named Lights was roaming around here too. This would have been a lovely time to know what the plan was. How did Jazz keep getting out of explaining things to them?

They managed to get almost halfway down the hall to the next stairwell when an alarm started to wail above them. Highwire and Jazz didn't even hesitate and just bolted forward. Taking a second to stare after them, the trio jumped and ran too. On either side, Orion could hear gladiators waking up confused. Shouts of surprise followed them as they reached the stairs. No doubt someone had noticed the unlocked cells.

It was really unfair how Primus-damned fast Jazz and Highwire were. They bound up the steps like they were nothing, the three mechs scrambling to keep up. On the next level, the escapees ran into two new unfamiliar bots coming from the other end. One of them tossed a gun to Jazz as the pair joined their headlong sprint. “Alarms went off East wing, Cadence got spotted. Guards are headin' over there.” Both barely glanced at the trio.

Ah. More of Jazz's people. Whoever they were. They must have been helping unlock everything.

Finally reaching the ground floor, the group tore off the stairs, around a corner and straight into a group of guards. In the lead, Highwire immediately launched at the closest one and slammed a fist into her midsection before uppercutting her jaw before she could recover from the surprise. They grabbed the guard as she went down and spun, smoothly drawing a gun to shoot the second while holding the first as a shield. As the last guard leveled their weapon up to aim at Highwire, Jazz leaped out from the side and jumped up to kick the guard in the chest.

There must have been a lot of force in the kick as it sent the mech flying into the wall. Battle mask on and fists up, Orion couldn't help but stare for a moment. That had to be the fastest take down he'd seen in a long time, no more than two seconds, three at most. They might have been even faster than the twins working together. Jazz's survival of the death match was starting to make a little more sense. He turned his helm to catch Sunstreaker's startled look as Jazz's friends frisked the guards for weapons.

“Do you all know how to shoot?” Highwire checked the magazine before snapping it back in.

Sideswipe's fingers tapped nervously against his thighs, no doubt wishing they had their blades. The emergency lights and wailing alarm was setting all their nerves on edge. “No. We're not allowed.”

A roar below made them all freeze. Jazz started down the hall at a steady clip. “Looks like everybody's up. Time to really book it.”

Taking the lead again, Highwire took the quickest path up. They passed the training rooms, not even stopping to grab weapons although all three gladiators desperately wanted to, and finally climbed up to the floor with the medic's quarters. Orion didn't think he'd ever climbed so many stairs at one time. The trio had never been up to this floor, off limits to fighters as it was. He didn't know where Ratchet's room was but they only had a few medics, so surely it would be easy to find? He wondered what the plan was after they got Ratchet and how they were going to get out.

An explosion rocked the building. The rolling boom and shuddering floor threw all of them off their pedes. For a moment, the lights flickered, plunging the hallway into darkness before they came back on. The shrilling of the alarms sounded quieter just then, overtaken by a growing white noise of shouting and..... drums?

“Unhappy, huh?” Jazz snickered.

Highwire just rolled their optics and started down the hallway again. “We convinced her not to eat anyone but the trade off was she could bring explosives. Cypher signed off on it.”

Definitely drums. A strange sort of music echoed from either outside or below them. Perhaps both. While he hesitated to say the noise had emotions, it sounded..... angry. Scrambling to their pedes, they only had to run down another two side halls before sliding to a stop in front of what had to be the medic quarters. Highwire kept their back to the left side of the door, one of the other mechs taking the right, and checked that the door was unlocked before slamming it open and whirling to aim their gun inside.

For a long tense moment, they held still. Jazz drew his gun. Stepping forward, Highwire cleared the room full of bunks and turned around. “Empty. The medics are gone.”

“No!” Orion hissed, horror dropping heavy in his tank. This was there chance, their one chance! Ratchet had to be here! Where was he?! The medics were always locked in their quarters at night!

Jazz shook his helm in frustration. “Sorry mechs, but we gotta go. Can't be runnin' all around lookin' for him.”

Optics paling, Sideswipe snarled and opened his mouth to say something but his brother cut him off. Sunstreaker shook his helm and looked to Jazz. “What now?”

“Sunny!”

“Roof. Stay or follow but we ain't waitin'.” Jazz was sympathetic but firm as he delivered the ultimatum. It sounded distant in Orion's audios. No. No, they couldn't leave without.....

Why wasn't he here?!

Sunstreaker's terrified optics caught his. “We're following.”

'We have to.' he thought, 'We have to go now.' Even as another part of him howled in protest. They could save themselves but they couldn't save Ratchet. The unfairness of it stabbed his spark and twisted. Why? Why wasn't he here?!

The rest of the escape felt thin and barely held together. Between leaving the medic quarters and climbing up a drop down hatch, time blurred a bit in his processor as his limbs went through the motions. The gust of hot wind that slammed into him as he climbed onto the roof shocked some part of his processor into functioning again.

Staring out into the unfamiliar landscape, Orion took in the sea of buildings and towers rising around him, stretching out and upwards. Noise drew him back; a shuttle sitting not far from them with a gunner shooting up the stands around the ring and groups of visible guards. The massive gun spat bullets instead of blaster fire, rattling as it dropped shells in a pile. Flames licked out along the east wing, shattering windows and raining glass down on the mob below as it steadily ate it's way towards the rest of the arena. A shocked and distant thought slid through his processor as he stared down at the arena floor from a height he never thought he'd see. The killing floor. Where he'd ended lives, and bled, and nearly died over and over again. Where older cellmates had died, leaving Orion alone until they'd paired the twins with him. Where he'd almost lost them too.

It looked horrifically small from up here.

He spotted some fighters slipping out the front of the building and into the city, but even more gathered and welled in the ring below, spilling energon as they'd been taught to. The line of guards had broken, falling to absolute chaos of red light, blood, and screaming. Above it all, a heavy bass pulsed through the announcer's speakers.

While Jazz pushed them towards the shuttle just ahead, a dark figure burst onto the roof above the east wing. Three more figures followed right after, the last throwing something back down the hatch that exploded. Bolting across the rooftops towards them and jumping the gaps between sections, the other group reached the shuttle just before they did.

Orion only caught a glimpse of the lead femme, dark plating and doorwings, before she launched herself into the ship shouting, “I'm drivin'!”

“Cadence is drivin'!” Jazz yelled, lunging inside after her. “You'll crash us into a buildin'!”

That was weird. Uncertain, the trio looked at Highwire who only shook their helm and ushered them into the shuttle. Climbing aboard, Orion couldn't help but look down as shots rang out among the howling and cries calling from below. And he was leaving it all behind. Leaving Ratchet behind.

“There's nothing we can do.” Sunstreaker gently pulled at his elbow.

The shuttle took off, leaving the bots below to their fates.


	3. Dimension - LICK

Jazz's people kindly shifted over so the trio could sit in an empty corner as soon as the shuttle left solid ground. While Orion had only been in a shuttle a few times in his life, they'd all been bumpy rides so he and the twins quickly sat and pressed their backs to the wall. All of the unfamiliar mecha eyed them with expressions ranging from curious to blank to suspicious. They too all had the visored symbol on them somewhere.

Thankfully, the dark-colored femme turned all attention back to herself and Jazz as they took seats by the opposite wall. “Took out Doubletap and his main crew. A few survivors in the lower levels, all runners or thereabouts. Didn't bother with the arena owners, although we left some lovely presents in their fancy offices.” She smiled, two rows of sharpened denta on display, thinner and more numerous than the twins'. “We were very nice guests.”

Sunstreaker's plating slowly flared.

She hopped up on a crate and lounged sideways, one clawed servo reaching out to trace around the side of Jazz's helm and leaving smears of blood in it's wake. Outer plating shining in polished obsidian, the small frame barely held a lick of color on her save for neon biolights, the symbol, and violet optics. Orion recognized their like. They held the same madness in them as every battle-crazed gladiator he'd ever fought. Judging by her size and how fast Jazz and his people had been so far, he suspected she would be a difficult opponent. The ones with no self-preservation were the worst.

“Hm, we felt that explosion.” Jazz let her run her claws along his cheek. “Havin' a bit too much fun there?”

“Noooooo. And I'm mad at you. Cypher's mad at you. And Stillbite-”

“I get it.” The mech snorted, batting her servos away from his face. She whined and leaned half off the crate to press her helm down against his. “I got ambushed and outnumbered. What was I supposed to do?”

Twisting, her face crowded into his. “Not get ambushed.” And then she leaned forward to lick his visor.

“LIGHTS!” Jazz shrieked, startling backwards.

The trio exchanged looks as some of the other mecha chuckled or rolled their optics. Giggling madly, Lights rolled back out of the way and skittered to another side of the shuttle. She only giggled louder when Jazz glared. “Can I play with your shinies?”

“No.” He scowled. “No touchin'.”

When Lights gave the trio a sneaky oily look, Orion realized the 'shinies' had to refer to them. He shifted and put himself between the twins' and Lights' line of sight. Her smile widened in delight at the move. Jazz's tone took on a warning note. “No, Lights.”

“Introduce us then.” She whined.

Orion could feel Sunstreaker's tense form coiling tighter and tighter like a spring at his back. While Sideswipe remained visibly calm, his optics darted from one mecha to the other, looking for weak points, weapons, and the safest way out. This didn't look good. They were on a shuttle high in the air with unfamiliar opponents with dubious intentions, outnumbered nine to three, and had no real way to escape if things turned south. Perhaps following Jazz had been a mistake.

A deep vent. No. They didn't know what was going on but there could be a chance to take off soon, which was more than they'd had in the arena. They just needed to be patient and figure out how much danger they were really in. Jazz frowned at them for a moment before turning to glare more deeply at Lights. His optics brightened, an almost white light illuminated behind the crystal visor.

“Stop scarin' 'em an' maybe I will.” His accent thickened.

Lights pouted. Throwing them a flat look, she stomped over to Jazz before dramatically flopping down and cuddling into his side with a sulk. “Fine. Hi. I'm Lights Out and I promise not to mess with you. Too much.” The corners of her lips started to tick back up. “What's your names?”

Narrowing his optics, Orion glanced at Jazz. He wasn't going to say anything unless Jazz asked because he seemed to have some sway over the crazy currently focused on them. Jazz nodded shortly.

“I'm Orion Pax.” He introduced the twins and looked at Jazz again, unsure of what to do now. No one was making a fuss about them being gladiators or what caste they were in. Maybe they were casteless too? He was starting to get the impression they just didn't care.

The mech smiled and took over. “I think we should do proper introductions. I'm Jazz, leader of the Edgerunners,” a gesture towards everyone in the shuttle, “and current ruler of the Darklight. This is my second in command and general, Lights Out. You met Highwire, my captain.” He didn't introduce anyone else but looked to the others.

Most either waved or stared back blankly. A small blue flight frame in the corner lifted his helm enough to wave at them. “Runway.”

“Cadence.” A deeper voice called from the cockpit.

“What's an Edgerunner? What's the Darklight? I've never heard of it.” Sideswipe asked.

Jazz chuckled. “The Edgerunners are a gang. The Darklight is where we live. It's a part of Polyhelix.” At the trio's blank stares, his smile dimmed. “Uh,....south of Iacon?”

“We've heard of Iacon. It sounded big.”

Everyone in the shuttle collectively stared at them. Unnerved, Orion felt his armor start to flare too. Lights whistled and shook her helm, pressing further until she was half lounging across Jazz's lap. “You went and picked newbuilds.”

“We're not newbuilds!” Sunstreaker snapped at her, “We almost never leave the arena!”

Waving a servo for everyone to calm down, Jazz made grabby hands at Highwire who passed him a datapad. He turned it on and flipped through it before bringing up a picture. “A'right mechs, here's the stage. This is Cybertron.” The three gladiators leaned in to study it. A globe in glowing blue floated on screen, divided up into plates and borders with marked areas that Orion thought were probably cities. Jazz used a digit to slowly rotate the picture. “This here is the Neutral Territories, where the arena is and where we are right now, although we're headin' for Altihex. We're gonna pass through there and Tagan Heights to get to Polyhelix and the Darklight.” He pointed to a triangular area marked out between Tagan and Polyhelix. It didn't seem so far away on the map but Orion thought Cybertron had to be massive, so perhaps it was. “And this up here is Iacon. It's the capital.”

“What's that?” Sunstreaker shifted to get closer and pointed to an oddly shaded area below Polyhelix. Long perpendicular lines crossed the marked section, to the left of another spot full of wavy lines.

“That's the Rust Wastes and the Rust Sea.”

“They're real!” Orion and Sideswipe cried in surprise, the other twin merely giving Jazz a hard look in case he was teasing them.

Everyone in the shuttle stared at them again. Jazz opened his mouth to say something, shut it, and sighed very deeply. One of the others piped up. “Why didn't you think it was real?”

“Well,” Sideswipe floundered for a moment, “we always heard of the Wastes as the place where treasure hunters go looking for ancient artifacts and fighting monsters and having adventures.... It sounded made-up, like the Citadel of Light. Is that real too?”

Jazz chuckled. “No. Sorry mechs.”

“Wow, they don't teach gladiators nothin', do they?” Lights muttered.

Glaring, Sunstreaker hissed wordlessly at her. Orion set a servo on his arm and urged the mech back behind him again before they got into a fight, leaving Sideswipe to handle everyone else. That turned out to be a bad plan.

“Wow, you know you're rude?”

Dammit Sideswipe.

“Hey now, let's settle down. Lights, don't be mean. You know it ain't their fault.” Handing the datapad back to Highwire, (and slag, Orion hadn't finished looking) Jazz looked down at the femme. “Don't be insultin' my shinies when you're cuddlin' me.”

“But I missed yooooouuuu.” She groaned.

A snort. “You're fight-drunk right now. Go hug one of the others.”

Everyone else in the shuttle immediately shifted back, save Highwire who stoically waited for the pair to knock it off with the antics. Lights snickered, optics slitted as she gazed around before turning back to the trio. “Wasn't tryin' to have a go at you. Was more slagged at the fact that they don't teach you nothin'. I knew the arenas were bad, but damn! Shoulda taken a klik to go kill the owners.” The twins deflated a little.

“Can always hire an assassin to go after 'em once we're home.” At the look she threw him, Jazz put his servos up in defeat. “Or let you go and do it. I'm sure Cypher's got everythin' under control at home.”

“Minor issues. The Cut Throat's are still fighting amongst themselves and their fights have started leaking into other territories.” Highwire handed Jazz a different datapad.

Taking it, the mech turned back to the trio. “I need to work on some things. Ya'll gonna be cool with chillin' for a bit or do you got anymore pressin' questions?” When they shook their helms, he shifted a little and tried to shove Lights out of his lap only to get pinched for his efforts. He sighed in defeat. As he got to work, she seemed to drop off into recharge. Everyone else settled in, either pulling out weapons to clean, datapads to read, or gazing idly out the windows.

The trio shifted back to leaning against the wall and peered out the windows as well. The buildings and fliers closest to the shuttle blurred past at high speeds. Colors were hard to see in the dark but Orion caught sight of towers lit with lights and reflective glass rising in the distance, domes reflecting silver and a whole array of strangely shaped buildings. As they merged into traffic, he studied the frames hovering in the air near them. Engines buzzed, clicked, and roared outside. They wound between megalithic structures and then dropped down until he couldn't tell if they still flew above the surface or had entered an underlayer. The buildings around them blocked out what little of the night sky he could see.

Through all the wonder at seeing so much of Cybertron, so much life, Orion fretted. He'd heard of gangs of course, but he didn't know what they did aside from breaking the law and fighting each other. He didn't know why Jazz had offered to help them out or if it had been a good idea to agree. What did Jazz want them for? What was he going to do when they got to Polyhelix?

Sideswipe made a quiet 'oh!' sound, face pressed against the glass, and tugged at his brother to point out a delicate walkway they flew over. His amazement and excitement grew as they flew further and further from the arena. Nervously, Sunstreaker kept half an optic on the other mecha and half an optic on the world outside. His gaze flicked about as he tried to take in every shape, every color, every movement of something new. Orion couldn't look away, even as Ratchet's gruff voice echoed in his audios. Guilt hit him again. Ratchet should have been there with them, to see all this. Maybe he wouldn't have been amazed, having been created in the world Outside and dragged into their pit, but Orion was sure he would have liked to be with them and out among the cities and people again.

Maybe they could convince Lights to let them join her when she went back to kill the arena owners. They'd find out exactly where Ratchet was and go and grab him while everyone was distracted with the explosions. He was sure there would be explosions.

Time passed sluggishly as the sun started to rise. Some of the mecha decided to nap. Too wound up on nerves and curiosity about the Outside, the twins stayed awake but Orion shuttered his optics and leaned his helm against Sideswipe, managing to doze.

Eventually, the shuttle started to dip again. It lowered and hovered next to a large tower. Peering out, Orion caught a glimpse of a dark alcove tucked under a bridge just before they flew inside and landed. Everyone started to get up, stretching and groaning about the long flight, before opening the doors and hopping out.

“Primus above, I hate flyin' long distance.” Runway muttered, servos braced on his knees as he vented deep and slow.

Another hip-checked them. “At least you didn't purge this time.”

“I'm gonna stab you.”

“No stabbin' till we get home!” Lights called gleefully before high-tailing it over to some mechs waiting at the other end of the landing zone. She seemed to have regained all of her energy.

Cadence, the deep voiced pilot, mock-sighed. “And I flew especially careful just for you.”

“Like Pit you did, you liar-”

“Everybody leave Runway alone .” Jazz hopped out and started directing people. “Cadence's crew, you're on lead. You three, stick with Highwire for now.”

If Highwire had anything to say about suddenly being designated as their sitter, they didn't show it. The trio hovered around the bot, unsure of what to do while the Edgerunners checked to make sure they'd gotten all their weapons and supplies out before heading towards the back of the alcove. Highwire gestured for them to get a move on, so they followed.

Sideswipe squinted at Runway. “Isn't he a flight frame?”

“Yes.” Highwire acknowledged.

“And he gets flight-sick?”

“Motion sick.” the mech in question corrected, coming up to their side as they entered a long dark hall. “Flyin' is the worst, even when I'm in a shuttle.”

“That sucks.” Sideswipe offered. Then he turned to look behind him, “Isn't Lights Out coming too?” Orion's finials flicked down as he peered over his shoulder. He really did not want her behind them.

Highwire directed them through a busted door and down a side tunnel after Cadence's crew, the way barely lit with broken bulbs interspersed throughout the ceiling. Rusted panels littered the floor along with cabling and other trash. “She'll catch up. She's selling the ship.”

“Why not keep it?” Orion asked.

“We can't really use it where we're going. If we ever need a ship again, we'll just rent one.”

Sideswipe made a face. “So the one we were just on....”

“We stole it yesterday.” Highwire nodded. “We needed it to help rescue the Boss.”

“Not that I generally need rescuin'.” Falling back to walk just in front of them, Jazz climbed over clutter and grinned. The whites of his denta shone eerily in the half-dark.

While a few of the mecha ahead of them made agreeing noises and exclamations of 'Right Boss!', Highwire just gave Jazz a deadpan look. “If you say so, sir.”

“Wiiiiiirrreeee.”

Orion and Sideswipe snickered at Jazz's overblown moaning. Even Sunstreaker cracked a small grin before piping up. “Do people use this area a lot? It looks abandoned.”

He had a point. With the way barely lit, refuse and sharp objects kept trying to trip under the group's pedes. Cracks, rust spots, and dust coated everything in a thin film that stirred up into a cloud as they made their way forward. The hall ended in a large room piled high with old and broken furniture. Sunstreaker's suspicious look came back.

“Not really.” Jazz strolled backwards to face them as they headed to another door. “We're technically above the surface layer but far enough in a group of megatowers that nobody comes down this deep. This area's been turned into a buncha service tunnels and storage spaces. We're gonna follow them to get to lower Polyhelix and under a wall without bein' noticed.”

The door opened to a large drop with cables wider than Orion covering most of the walls. Sideswipe leaned over the edge to look down, his brother quickly grabbing onto his back plating just in case. “Wow. That's deep.”

“Yeah, don't fall.” advised Runway.

The Edgerunners hopped down to a narrow little ledge and walked along it towards a small ladder that led down to another door in the tunnel. They made it look easy. Trading cautious looks, the gladiators followed. Sideswipe went first, grabbing onto some handholds thankfully set into the wall and moving slow enough that Sunstreaker could stay close to his back while keeping his own servos free. Orion brought up the rear with Highwire and Runway behind him.

He managed to make it halfway around before the urge to look down grew too strong and his optics moved on their own accord. Huh. That was very deep. The fall would probably kill him. Exhilaration and fear shot through his systems as he moved along and finally grasped the ladder to climb into the smaller tunnel.

Sunstreaker turned to look him over. “You okay?”

“I think so. Heights are kinda cool.” Orion scratched the back of his helm, wincing at the dark look Sunny gave him.

“No.”

“Move along younglings.” Highwire urged. When they did, the bot looked up at him. “Do you like heights?”

He thought about it and shrugged. “I don't know. It seemed kinda fun, in the 'it's probably going to kill me' way.”

“We are not testing that.” Sunstreaker growled as his brother snickered and gave a thumbs up. Apparently Sideswipe had liked the climbing too.

Thankfully, the rest of the way didn't hold any dangerous heights. It didn't take too long before they climbed a set of stairs up and entered an alleyway. Lights sat on a dumpster, swinging her legs and whistling cheerily. “'Bout time.”

“How did you get ahead of us?!” Sideswipe gaped, much to everyone else's amusement.

“I took the fun way.”

Jazz snorted. “You mean the suicidal shortcut.”

“Fuuuuuun.” She stressed the word but seemed much calmer than she had been before. Hopping down, Lights started leading them out onto a street. The trio hesitated but followed into the warm light.

Frames of more types and sizes than he could imagine moved about, walking or driving or just standing in front of shops chatting. Somewhere close by, music echoed between the buildings. Sideswipe bounced a few steps ahead then back to Sunstreaker's side before doing it again, a massive grin on his face as he spun around to take everything in. They ignored the snickers from Jazz's people. “Look how colorful they are!” he whispered in his brother's audio.

A quick smile flickered across Sunstreaker's face before he scowled at a pair of drunks who wandered a little too close. Sideswipe was right. So many colors painted everyone's frames, more than he could have imagined. Orion would have bet Sunstreaker was internally jumping at the chance to try and memorize all the shades. A glance at the mech's face showed a deeper scowl though. Sunstreaker's optics flickered to their own faded frames before glancing back at all the vibrant colors. Well, maybe they could get a new paint job eventually. Would Jazz help them with that?

A flash of streaked colors above his helm caught his attention. He looked up. A massive void of space colored in shades of red and violet edged into darkness as the sun sank beyond the buildings in evening rays. Sky.

Oh.

“Hey.” He wasn't aware he'd paused until someone touched his elbow and Orion startled.

Sideswipe stood at his side, trying valiantly to wipe a grin off his face and failing as he looked over at Sunstreaker frozen in shock. He too had tilted his helm up to gape at the sky. The Edgerunners looked back at them in confusion.

“I didn't know it could have so many colors at once.” The gold mech whispered aloud.

Jazz gestured for the others to wait and turned back to hover next to them. “You mechs okay?”

“We, uh...” Orion couldn't stop his optics from going back to the air above them. “We haven't....”

“You can't see a lot of the sky from the arena, can you?”

For a moment, Sunstreaker's face crumpled as he realized just how much they had been missing. Then he wiped it away into a mask of rage. “NO.” His armor flared before he resolutely turned to Jazz. “Where are we going?”

A gesture to look behind them at a wall that stretched between the shorter buildings around them and the jagged skyline rising beyond it. “That's Polyhelix proper. We went under those towers. Right here is the surface of the Darklight. The rest of it's below.” Jazz tilted his helm at the trio. “Ya'll can come up to see the sky later but it's gonna get dark soon and it'll be safer once we get to the club.”

Optics still glancing up at the sky, the trio trailed behind Jazz as the group headed further from the wall and down a ramp, set in the surface and crowded with traffic. Before heading down, Highwire looked at them. “If any of you have a noise sensitivity, now is a good time to turn your audios down a little.”

Sunstreaker did so, trading looks with his cellmates as the trio crowded together and jogged after the Edgerunners while trying to keep from getting too close to all the other people around them. It felt strange to walk by unfamiliar frames who were neither opponents nor guards. How should he react to them? How close were people supposed to walk next to each other? The Edgerunners all crowded a bit close, Lights practically leaning on Jazz, but they all gave the trio a respectful distance except Highwire who brought up the rear.

The ramp ended between two massive pillars that stretched up to hold the ceiling. Orion barely noted the structures before his mind glitched over an avalanche of unexpected stimuli. Distantly, he heard Sideswipe suck in a startled gasp and laughter from the Edgerunners. Jazz chuckled, sounding incredibly smug.

“Welcome to the Darklight.”

Noise bombarded him first, heavy thrumming of drums and notes pulsing across the glittering circuit board of buildings in discordant harmony. Optic-searing neon clung to every frame, every building, every spray-painted scrap of graffiti, at odds with unfamiliar glyphs flashing across signs and shifting billboards. Everywhere Orion looked, he saw glowing lights reflecting harshly against glass and jostling crowds. Racing speedsters tore down roads and bridges over a massive chasm that split the layers right down the middle. He'd never seen so much chaos.

Cybertron was bigger and stranger than he could have imagined.

“Come on mechs.” Highwire nudged them forward. “We're almost there.”

In a daze, they followed Jazz and his people further into the Darklight. Sideswipe gripped his elbow tightly, his other servo clinging to Sunstreaker. They don't go far before boarding a street shuttle and taking a seat. Highwire made sure they settled in the middle of the group before leaning over to talk to them. “I'm assuming you're all alt-locked?”

“Uh-huh.” Sideswipe's answer sounded distracted as his gaze flickered around the other riders and then out the window. “Never transformed before.”

“Holy fraggin-!” one of the others choked off a low oath and stared at them before turning back to Jazz and making a hand gesture Orion doesn't understand. The boss shook his helm, frown deepening.

“We'll help with that later. One thing at a time.”

“This,” Lights claps her servos together cheerfully, “is why the Neutral Territories suck.”

Outside the windows, the shuttle passed by what looked like a shootout in an intersection. The Edgerunners barely give it a glance. Sunstreaker made a face. “As opposed to here?”

Pouting, Lights tried to make sad optics and only succeeded in looking mocking. “Least we don't gotta slave trade 'round here no more.”

“Really?” They entered a bridge that took them down a layer before stopping. None of their group got up so Orion stayed in his seat. The idea of the slave trade not existing somewhere sounded ridiculous. How could there be a place out of their reach? “I thought it was all over Cybertron?”

A proud smile curled on Jazz's face, echoed in smirks from the rest of the Edgerunners. “They were here.” Jazz's sharpened denta made an appearance. “We made them leave.”

“They tasted nasty.” Lights stuck her glossa out.

Sunstreaker, the closest to the femme, edged back towards his brother a bit. Several of the other passengers eyed the group warily, curious gazes not resting on the trio for too long before they also started to shuffle very slowly towards the other end of the shuttle. This time, Jazz didn't bother telling her to stop scaring people.

The progress downwards didn't take very long. Orion counted another two layers before they got off and started walking. Buildings crowded close together, stacked haphazardly up and up into each other's space, and creating dark shadows at their bases. Fluorescent lights lit the fronts of stores and twisting alleys. People lounged and chatted on doorsteps smoking onox crystals or just relaxing as arguments on corners blended with street vendors calling from overhead catwalks and the ever present music. Now that his audios had a chance to adjust, Orion found the noise no louder than an arena crowd. He didn't even have to raise his voice much to speak with those next to him.

As they went, individuals in the crowd continued to watch them with unfriendly or curious gazes. Strangely, everyone gave their group a wide berth. Up until one minibot dashed out of an alley, handed something to Cadence and then dashed off. The Edgerunners barely paused, although Cadence nodded to the mini as they ran up a building and disappeared.

Others seemed to be using the rooftops as a viable road as well. Orion could see people running on narrow loose boards between gaps, jumping down great heights or climbing up like they had magnets in their servos. Maybe they did. He'd have to ask later.

Only a few streets down and through an alley, they drew up to a back door of a large building with pulsing lights and a heavy beat spilling from the high windows. One of the door guards spotted their group and let out a whoop, raising a servo to wave while the other remained professional and stoic.

Most of the group whooped back and ran to greet the guards while Jazz and Highwire stopped and looked at the trio. Jazz smiled at them, gesturing at the club. The shifting lights splashed across his visor like a kaleidoscope.

“Well mechs, this is Joyride. Welcome to my home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Orion's Internal Log:_  
>  __Darklight Slang_  
>  Shiny: Darklight slang for a “pretty” or “treasure”. Anything that can be remotely considered loot regardless of how reflective it actually is.
> 
> [Map of Cybertron](https://darkwalk.tumblr.com/post/628710742767616000/map-of-cybertron-for-my-together-au-story-found)  
> [Jazz & Joyride](https://darkwalk.tumblr.com/post/627789428799291392/how-big-is-this-place-hard-to-say-no-one-can)


	4. Space Ghost Coast to Coast - Glass Animals

The Edgerunners clamored inside like a hoard of raiders who'd successfully plundered a castle, all noise and excitement and littered with small wounds. Considering the night before, he thought it was a fair description. Pushed along by the exuberant group, the trio quickly found themselves bustled down a hall as mecha split off to go who-knows-where. Jazz guided them off to the side and into a medbay, the strangest one Orion had ever seen.

Not that he'd ever seen any other medbay than the arena's, but he didn't think a multitude of differently colored lights on the ceiling were standard medbay decorations. At least it wasn't dim like outside had been. A copper-colored mech with droopy optics, probably the medic, looked at their group in exasperation. “Is Lights adopting people again?”

“No. They're with me.”

Jazz hopped up on a berth and made gestures for the trio to find a spot to sit as Runway staggered over to a cabinet and started shuffling through it's contents. “Alt-locked, probably need firewalls and virus checked. Not sure what else.”

“We have firewalls.” Sideswipe offered as they hesitantly sat on a spare berth. “But Orion's chronometer's broken and Sunny and I don't have one.”

The medic gave them a narrow look, glancing at Jazz before snorting. “I don't want to know where you got them.”

“The grump here is called Radon. He's our main medic.” Jazz explained as the mech started cleaning up his side and welding the older injury. By the cabinets, Runway finally found whatever he was looking for and sat down in a chair with a big huff, tossing back a shot from the bottle.

“Only half Runway.”

At the medic's admonishment, he held up the partially empty bottle. “Half, like always. Primus, I hate flyin'.”

“What is that?” Sideswipe asked.

Runway leaned over to show them. “Anti-nausea stuff. Gotta go through this every fraggin' time. At least it don't taste nasty.”

“It's called-.”

“Magic potion number three.” Runway interrupted.

Scowling, Radon straightened away from his boss and glared at the flier. “You could have some appreciation for the medicine, considering how often you go through my stores.”

“If we're low, put it on the stock sheets.” Stretching his limbs out with a pop, Jazz sounded like he'd had to say that line many times before. He curled a palm under his chin and pouted at Radon. “So doc, give it to me straight. Am I gonna live?”

“Unfortunately.”

The trio snickered. Scoffing, Jazz's pout grew. “Not fortunate if your boss dies. Who's gonna pay you?”

“Oh, I'm sure the others can still pay me to patch them up.” Radon started pushing him off the berth. “You're fine, just need a wash up and try not to pop that weld. Runway, get out.”

Sideswipe latched onto the flier's elbow as he started up. “Wait, what's magic potion number one?”

Leaning over, Runway stage-whispered, “Highgrade.” That set off a round of giggles, both the medic and Sunny rolling their optics as the flier left. Jazz hovered by the door for a moment longer.

“I'll send someone to show you where to go when you're done.”

After he left and the door closed, the trio eyed Radon warily. He gave a stern look back and waved a servo for them to separate. “Don't give me any trouble. I've enough from everyone else.”

They glanced at each other. Sunstreaker nudged his brother and Orion with his knees, making it clear he'd go first to make sure the medic didn't do anything too terrible. Sideswipe didn't like it and frowned sharply but slowly they moved off and took seats to the side while still within arms reach. Sunstreaker stared at Radon as the medic raised an optic ridge at the display. Instead of asking, the mech plugged a diagnostic cable into Sunstreaker's ports and started looking through his systems. Too nervous, Sideswipe couldn't stand the quiet.

“Why are all medics grouchy? Do you get trained that way?”

A snort. “No, we're grouchy because we have to deal with the masses and their stupidity on a regular basis. No appreciation for the amount of slag I have to put up with. At least I get paid for this nonsense.”

Unsure of what to say to that, the trio remained silent as he looked over Sunstreaker's frame and started to make changes to something on a datapad. After a few minutes, he frowned at them. “Well, it's not the worst I've seen. Someone's been taking care of you.”

They didn't flinch, although Sideswipe looked away and Orion held very still.

“Firewalls are decent, minor level viruses will be gone in the next few minutes and your comms and subspace are unlocked. I've taken out the coding keeping you alt locked. Have you transformed before?”

“No.” Sunstreaker answered when his brother didn't speak up.

Radon gave them all another steady glance, too blank and distant to be easily read. He was probably paid not to question things. “I'd suggest taking it slow. You've got unused mod ports on your arms that are starting to rust out. You'll need to either replace them or take them out completely. Mods aren't my specialty, they're Quickfire's. But he's not here today so you'll have to come back later.”

“Can you give him a chronometer?” Sideswipe piped up.

“Yes.” An aggrieved sigh, “As I was just getting to, I can upload one to your HUD. I'll need to plug into your processor.”

As Sunstreaker gave the barest of nods, Radon obviously realized that was the only answer he was going to get and sighed again before carefully plugging in. Soon after, he attached tires to his frame and showed the mech how to use his comms with the tired patience of a mech who'd done it too many times to care anymore. Sideswipe and Orion listened very carefully so they'd know how to do it when it was their turn. Finally, Radon gestured for Sunstreaker to get off the berth. “You're fine. Whose next?”

Sideswipe's and Orion's checkups went much the same, although Orion still had the blades that went to the mod ports in his arms, which Radon unlocked for him before replacing the software for his chronometer. It felt strange to be able to check the time after so long without knowing. And the weight of the tires was weird. He quietly flipped his arm blades in and out, just to feel them before the medic's optics started to twitch and he put them away again. “If you're all done?”

“Um right, thanks!” Bouncing towards the door, Sideswipe saluted him.

“Shoo.” Radon waved them off before turning back to his desk and datapads. Uncertainly, the trio poked their helms out the door and found Highwire waiting there to greet them. They offered a flicker of a smile.

“He said you're good?”

“It looked a little tricky there for awhile,” Sideswipe started, tone deadly serious, optics cutting to Orion.

He couldn't help but finish for him, “But everyone pulled through in one piece.”

A startled chuckle broke out, obviously against the bot's will. Highwire huffed before starting down the hall. Sideswipe winked at Orion, hip-checking his brother until Sunstreaker rolled his optics and shoved him. Whatever their guide thought of their behavior, they kept to themself. Traveling up a flight of stairs, the trio stopped just behind the bot in front of a pair of doors. They pushed them open and ushered the mechs inside. “Boss and the others will be here in a minute. Don't touch anything.”

After they left, the three looked at each other and stared around what he thought looked like an office. Ceiling to floor windows took over the entire right wall, looking out over a dance floor and a writhing crowd. Colored lights reflected across the ceiling in flashes through the thick glass but Orion could just barely hear the thrum of the music. The room must have been soundproofed. In front of the windows, the floor lowered into a seating area full of plush couches and a low table. A couple cubes and glasses of energon sat atop it.

“Ooooooh,” Sideswipe eyed them greedily.

A hiss from his twin stopped him, “Don't you dare.”

“I'm hungry.”

“We'll ask Jazz when he shows up.” Sunstreaker circled the desk on the far side and examined the tall shelves full of datapads and weird knickknacks. “It's probably a trap to see if we listen to Highwire.”

“You're right, although I wasn't expectin' you to get it that quickly.” An unknown voice said.

Orion startled, whirling around with his armblades extended and the twins suddenly on either side of him in fighting stances. Someone had snuck in behind them. About the twin's height but oddly thin, a golden mech leaned against the door frame and studied them up and down with piercing violet optics. He had the same airs as some of the more important guests, the ones who wanted things exactly their way or they'd make it be their way. “Put those away.”

Slowly, Orion did so, barely relaxing out of his fighting stance as the mech stalked past to settle on a couch. He didn't do anything other than sit down and watch them. The trio stared back, a bit unnerved. Were they supposed to sit down too?

“Take a seat lovelies.” That question was answered as Jazz walked in, followed by Lights Out and another unknown mech.

Sunstreaker took the lead, sitting stiffly on the edge of a couch opposite to the gold mech. As Sideswipe and Orion sat on either side of Sunny, Lights hopped over the table to land on one of the couches in a bounce before catapulting herself at the unknown mech. He made a face but just sighed as she hugged him. Once everyone had found a spot, Jazz eyed the energon before pouring some out and handing the glasses over to the trio. “I'm sure ya'll need this.”

“Thank you.” Orion murmured, passing the energon along while his drink hovered in his lap a moment. Energon at the arena had always been various shades of dull grayish to almost pink, often contaminated and always lowgrade. These practically glowed blue. Trying to be subtle, Sideswipe took a quick sip and gave the barest nod. Jazz leaned back, picking up a glass for himself and smiled at them.

At the arena, Jazz had had a subtle gleam, a forgotten knife stashed under a bench. Now he sat like an honored patron with a crowned helm held high. This place was his, his lazy posture said. And he dared anyone to try and take it from him.

“Do they pass your inspection then? I'd offer more than plain but our medic said the fancy stuff right away ain't good for your tanks.”

The trio tensed. The unnamed mech sighed. “Easy now. We aren't gonna bite.”

Taller than even Orion and of a much thicker build, the bronze and dark green mech seemed very intimidating. He could have bench pressed any one of them with ease. His optics looked kind though, crinkled from long-suffering amusement from what Orion could see of them through the transparent yellow visor. He didn't seem to mind Lights curling against him either.

“Much.” Lights snickered as she nipped at Big Mech's servos. When he tried to shove her off, she bared her teeth in the imitation of a smile. Big Mech rolled his optics and pushed himself to his pedes, dropping her off his lap, before taking his seat again. Her delighted laughter rose up from the floor.

“I knew the explosives were a bad idea.”

“Lights.” Her mania seemed to settled a bit under Jazz's quelling look as she hopped back up onto a couch, perhaps in respect to his invisible crown, perhaps because she was finally running out of steam. Jazz tilted his visor before looking at Sideswipe. “Are you the poison tester?”

He stumbled through his answer, “Um, not really? I'm better at tasting when energon's contaminated? I don't know anything about poison.”

“It's not poisoned or contaminated.” Jazz took a sip of his own drink. Slowly, Orion did the same, elbowing Sunstreaker who refused to move, energon still cradled on his lap. And oh, how good the drink tasted! He couldn't think of anytime he'd ever had such clean energon, not even a trace of the usual bitterness clouding it.

“This is Stillbite,” a gesture to Big Mech and then Gold One, “and Cypher, my other generals. Now, on to business. One of the things about Darklight folks is the smart ones don't like owin' debts.”

Dread welled in his tank as Orion wondered what Jazz would demand of them and if it would be better or worse than being a gladiator. Sunstreaker seemed to be thinking along the same lines. The tension in his frame nearly doubled as he glared at the ganglord. “We owe you because you got us out. What do you want in return? For us to join your gang?”

“No! No,” Jazz startled with a frown. “You're misunderstandin'. I'm the one who owed, and still partially owes, you.”

What.

“Um... ?” The trio traded confused looks as Sideswipe piped up. “Is this because we didn't try to kill you when you were in our cell?”

Wait... Oh! OH! Orion straightened. “I saved you from being crushed during the riot. Is that what this is about?”

“You saved him?” Sideswipe looked at Orion. He shrugged back and made a motion with his servos. He hadn't meant to do it. Already ahead of things, Sunstreaker scowled.

“If he hadn't saved you, would you have helped us out?”

To his credit, Jazz thought about it for a moment, “I prolly would've let you know the doors were open before slippin' out, as a head start for not tryin' to rough me up in your cell. But no, I wouldn't have asked you to come with me. As much as I hate the arenas, I can't save everyone. ”

Sunstreaker relaxed marginally. “At least you're honest.”

“But why owe him at all?” His twin made a face, “Why does it matter? You could have just left.”

“Us Darklight folk don't always have things to barter with, and sometimes it comes down to our word, favors and debts.” Lights explained, sounding surprisingly serious. “We don't wanna be owin' anythin' heavy like a life debt.”

Jazz nodded. “Gettin' you out and helpin' you get started with your own lives seems like a good exchange for savin' my life. I reckon it about evens out, don'tcha think? And I'm not a nice mech, but I try to avoid bein' cruel when I can. Takin' you without your cellmates would've been terrible. Didn't think you'd leave without them anyways.”

“I wouldn't have...” Orion trailed off as he processor tried to comprehend what was going on. “So, you're not going to-” Surely the energon had to be a bribe, obvious though it was. The playfulness between Jazz and his generals, the absolute authority he seemed to exude while still being down on their level enough that they could feel comfortable talking to him; it should have worked up into them owing Jazz. Working for him. That's what gladiators were for – fighting for others. This didn't fit the script. Why would anyone go through the trouble of acquiring them if they didn't want them?

“You're really not making us join your gang?” Sideswipe blurted.

Gently kicking Jazz in the shins, Stillbite muttered in exasperation. “You should've said that earlier.”

“I was tryin' to give 'em time to process before I talked to 'em about it!” Jazz argued. Clapping his servos together, he leaned forward. “No. I ain't makin' you join. Not that I'd turn you down if you wanted to. So here's the deal; you can stay here for an orn and go figure out what you wanna do. At the end of the orn, you can either join my crew, pick a job around here, or leave the Darklight. Whatever you want, I'll help. Within reason of course. I figure that will make us pretty even.”

That sounded.... like a very nice offer. Orion bit his lip, trying to see the downside but nothing stood out. And that made the entire thing feel like a trap. This couldn't possibly be an even exchange! One moment of saving someone could not equal all of this help. There had to be something more they were missing.

“And if we wanted to leave right now?” Sunstreaker questioned.

“I'd ask you to wait a klik so I could grab Highwire to show you the way out of the Darklight. You go off by yourself down here and you'll prolly end up dead before the night's over.”

Orion glanced sideways and caught both twin's wary expressions. Could they trust that this wouldn't put them in a bad place? Did they have a choice?

“Obviously,” Cypher finally spoke, continuing his dead-optic stare, “the easiest answer is to join us. Our group is the most profitable gang in the Darklight, with one of the largest territory, and we take good care of our people. I can assure you the other gangs aren't nearly so kind.”

Jazz's mouth tightened to a thin line, a warning tone. “Cypher.”

“They're gladiators. What job are they goin' to be good at besides fightin'?” Expecting the mech's tone to become patronizing, Orion wasn't sure what to make of what sounded almost like sympathy if someone took all the actual emotion out. The mech could've given the guards a run for their money as far as coldness went. Did he really not know what actual sympathy sounded like? “You'll find being a proficient fighter isn't looked on very well by most of Cybertron unless you join the military or enforcers. And they won't take well to those without records. You wouldn't have to hide it here. And your skills could be very helpful.”

Was he saying the Edgerunners didn't care that they didn't have records, or that they were casteless?

“Enough. It's their choice.” Fully annoyed, Jazz hissed at his general. Sunstreaker shifted, back ramrod straight. All three of the ex-gladiators glared.

“You're being too kind. I'm tryin' to help them by explainin' what they'll realize for themselves.”

A clawed servo carefully set the drink back on the table with a tiny tink, loud against the sudden silence. Jazz and his general held optic contact, Cypher's expression shifting into something that could have been considered an actual emotion, possibly disapproval. Neither of the others said a word or even moved. Although Orion would have expected Lights to be the sort to egg on a fight, she only frowned at the pair, doorwings lowered to half-mast. The trio traded wary looks and kept very still so they wouldn't draw attention. It would be unfortunate if it devolved into a fight, as the Edgerunners were between the trio and the door.

Finally, Cypher's optics flicked away as his expression tightened. He stood, sending one more dismissive glance at the mechs before stalking from the room. Jazz let loose a strut deep sigh and turned back to them. “It is your choice. Within reason, I'll help you set up your own lives. Is that acceptable to pay the debt?”

Like they had much of a choice to say otherwise? “......Yes. Thank you Jazz.”

Orion felt a bit fuzzy around the edges all of a sudden. All the changes had started to catch up with him, buzzing around in his mind. He'd spent his entire life following a schedule set out by the timing of guards, fights, and naps in their cell. Now they'd gone off script, losing him in a mess of questions and too few answers. They'd never had to make big decisions for themselves before. He had no idea what was expected of them now. No idea of what to do.

Sunstreaker slid a servo over and hooked two fingers into Orion's elbow joint without looking.

Stillbite coughed into the awkward silence and pulled out some datapads, info packs and upload drives. “Here. These are all basics; history, writing, map of Cybertron and stuff about the different cities. Those sorts of things.”

“Thanks!” As Sideswipe grabbed them greedily, a small pit formed in Orion's tank. He wondered if the reading upload he'd traded for had suddenly become useless. “So.... are the others, the rest of your gang, going to want us to join because we're- we were, gladiators?”

“No. They shouldn't. If anyone bothers you about it, let one of the generals know....” Jazz frowned. “Prolly not Cypher, but the rest of us or Highwire. Some of Highwire's crews are the only ones that know and they were told to keep their traps shut. No one's gonna be talkin' about it. You don't want it known, it's not known.”

Tapping his fingers on his untouched energon, Sunstreaker remained suspicious. “And that's not going a little far in paying back this debt?”

“That part's not the debt.” Stillbite murmured, dropping the Darklight accent for something more clipped. His expression flickered, almost bitter. “Most of the people who come to the Darklight to stay are running from something. I can't say everyone understands it's none of their business, because information is valuable and gets bought and sold, but our people here know better than to go prying when Jazz tells them not to.”

“The information's not worth losin' our trust.” added Lights. “You know, I don't think people are gonna suspect you're gladiators either, 'less you go around tellin' 'em.” Pointing at Orion, she wiggled her optic ridges, “He looks cuddly without the facemask. Like a librarian that lost a few bar fights. Wouldn'ta pegged him for gladiator right off. You two,” she glanced at the twins, “I can see it a bit but it wouldn't be my first guess. Do you like cuddles?” Lights focused back on him with a grin.

Cuddly? She seriously thought he looked cuddly? And while he did like hugs, that was only with the twins.

Sideswipe grimaced, ignoring her question with forced cheer, “That's.... good, that it's not obvious. I,” he looked at the other two. Sunstreaker shook his helm 'no', Orin nodded 'yes' in agreement with Sunny. “I think we'd like to keep it to ourselves.”

Whatever he'd been expecting, Stillbite's long look was not it. The big mech glanced over at Jazz. “Are they siblings, amica or conjux? 'Cause I haven't seen anyone talk silent like that 'cept when Bass and Moonshine are gettin' along.”

“We're twins.” Sunstreaker admitted in confusion, most likely because their frame similarities made it obvious. “And Orion's with us.”

“Yes, but are you conjux?” Chin in her palms, Lights' optics bore into them with rapt attention and an eager grin creeping across her face.

The trio glanced at each other, uncertain. Orion asked, “What does conjux mean?”

Another dead silence filled with horrified looks. He was really starting to get tired of those. Although this seemed to be much worse than the map episode, judging by Stillbite's dropped jaw. Lights almost fell over before scrambling up and marching toward the door. Jazz half stood, calling after her. “Lights!”

“Nope! No! Gotta go kill some folks!”

“You just got back!”

“And I'll be back later! I'm on holiday, bye!” She yelled back, disappearing into the hall.

“Uh.....” The twins and Orion traded looks, a bit freaked out by the strong reaction. Was the conjux thing really that important? Orion carefully cleared his throat and turned to Stillbite. “Are we in trouble?”

Confusion swept across the mech's face, followed swiftly by painful realization. “No. You won't be in trouble for not knowing things. Don't worry about that.”

“Seriously, what does conjux mean? And that other one.... amitas?” Sideswipe tried.

“Conjux Endura means spouse, Amica Endura means long-term best friend.”

Sideswipe threw his servos up. “Then why not just say lovers and best friends?!” Hoping the others were distracted enough, Orion nudged Sunstreaker with his knee and tipped his helm at the untouched energon. Unsurprisingly, the mech ignored him in favor of interrogating the others.

“Is there an in-between word?”

“Not that I know of? At least not around here.” Jazz stared at them, looking very tired all of a sudden.

“Ah.” Sunstreaker murmured and didn't elaborate even when it became clear the pair expected him too. Instead of explaining, the mech finally started sipping his energon. Orion sighed. Nothing beat Sunny when it came to stubbornness. Not even Sideswipe.

“There could be ones used in other cities but I haven't heard any. Do they not use conjux and amica in the Neutral Territories?” Stillbite asked. The trio shrugged as Jazz rubbed the base of his horns like he had a helm-ache coming on and the big mech snickered. “This is what you get for adoptin' folks.”

“Oh, hush your mouth. Lights' adoptees are never this complicated, I swear.”

That struck a chord in Orion, “Radon mentioned Lights adopting people too. What's that about?”

Stillbite grinned, “She has a habit of findin' people in tough situations and bringin' them back here. Some of them have joined us, others have left. But it's become a habit of hers. This is the first time Jazz has done it though.”

“Wait,” straightening with a frown, Sideswipe held up a servo, “Did she go back to the arena? Is that what she meant?”

“Yeah. I told her to keep an optic out for your medic. Ratchet, right?”

“Uh huh.....” Sideswipe's face fell briefly. Although they hadn't said anything, they'd all hoped to convince Lights to let them come with her if she went back. Now they'd just have to be patient and hope. “Is he going to owe you guys for the rescue?”

Orion's spark sank when Jazz nodded, “A bit. I figure about two orns helping in our medbay ought to cover it. Lights is already gonna be there causin' trouble so it's not a big deal to snag one mech, especially one that could help us a bit.”

“Trustworthy medics are hard to come by around here.” Stillbite explained.

He nodded, silently thinking that Ratchet probably wouldn't like that. Not at all. But helping out here with these people who seemed friendlier than the guards for such a short period of time surely beat staying in the arena forever? And the energon was so much better....

“A'right, now that that's all cleared up, what am I forgettin'?” Flopping down on his back, Jazz kicked his legs over the back of the couch. “Stillbite...... help me out here.”

The general tapped his chin. “Deal, info uploads, housing?”

“They got a room here for now.” Jazz said. “Ya'll cool with still sharin'?”

“We'd prefer that.”

At Sunstreaker's nod, the boss turned back to Stillbite. He shrugged. “Their paintjobs look like slag. They can't go out like that.” Armor flaring, Sunstreaker puffed up in offense at the state of their paint jobs while Sideswipe looked down with a frown as if just realizing they didn't exactly blend in with everyone around them. Stillbite waved a servo at them. “Not meanin' to offend. But really, you can't go out like that or someone'll think you're homeless and easy prey.”

“I could send Highwire out with them.” Jazz muttered almost to himself.

“They've been workin' double time trying to stage that rescue and cover things while you were gone.” Stillbite said. “Even with us all helpin', Lights was a handful. You know how she gets when one of us is captured. And I know Highwire's been meanin' to get a repaint.”

Quiet for a moment, Jazz agreed. “I like that idea. Ya'll up for a repaint?”

“Yes!” Sunstreaker caught himself and coughed, glaring as his cellmates snickered on either side of him. “Um, is this part of the debt?”

“I'll let you know if we start crossin' into territory that ain't part of the debt. Also, your paintjobs are offensive, so you're doin' the rest of us a favor.” Jazz assured them, obviously biting back a smile.

“Okay.”

Pushing himself up with a groan, Jazz quickly commed Highwire. “Right then, 'Wire will meet you downstairs by the front doors. Super easy to find, go explore a bit. Have fun!”

A little uncertain now that they had neither guide nor guard to tell them where to go, the trio allowed themselves to be shooed from the office and hovered out in the hall a moment before looking at each other.

“I think we came from that way.” Sideswipe spoke up first, glancing at Orion. “So... amicas? Or can we just claim you as a sibling?”

“I guess 'amicas' works. I don't like conjux.” His face scrunched.

Taking the lead, Sunstreaker headed toward a familiar set of stairs. “Not that I care if people think we are, but it's not the same? We can't exactly say 'cellmates'. I doubt anyone would understand.”

“They'd make assumptions.”

“Yeah.” Sideswipe stuck his glossa out. “Jazz and the other Edgerunners seem pretty cool though. Weird as slag, but cool.”

“Lights is insane.” Sunstreaker stated.

“I can't believe she called me cuddly!” While he knew full well there were other more important things going on, the fact that someone had actually called him, a survivor of the deathmatches, cuddly was surreal.

The red mech snorted. “I'm just glad Jazz is in charge and not her, otherwise I'd be pretty worried.”

“Are we sure Jazz is in charge?” They entered the ground floor and looked around. Since the back door and the medbay lay to their right, the front door would be to the left, right? Sunstreaker made a face and started walking left. “Because quite a few people seem pretty calm about ignoring his authority or teasing him.” Orion had found it a little odd how everyone accepted Jazz as leader but kept pushing and playing and stretching out against his authority. Maybe, maybe Jazz was as kind as he seemed and Orion was just being paranoid.

They passed some mecha hovering by an open door and smoking onox crystals. Anxiety skittered up Orion's spine at wandering without a guard but the group did nothing more than eye them. He murmured aloud, more to himself than the twins. “This isn't the arena. Maybe authority is treated differently?”

Sunstreaker cast a wary glance around them and muttered under his breath. “I doubt that.”

Soon the hallway curved around and ended in front of some double doors, a heavy beat sending shivers through the floor just beyond. Surely the front door was near the dance floor? Orion tried to stay on the positive side. Anything less would lead to even more anxiety. “At least he seems like a nice sort of boss? He could be a lot worse.”

“We don't know how nice he is! This could just be a show!” Insisted Sunstreaker. They carefully opened a door and peered out, taking in the massive space filled with bodies. Dancers crowded the floor in front of the stage, twisting around to the obnoxiously loud music while strobe lights flashed and less agitated bodies slumped by the bar and tables. It was bright, loud, and far too chaotic for any of them to want to brave it just yet. They couldn't see anything that resembled a front door either. He doubted the smaller doors by the bar and across the room where the right ones.

Sideswipe pulled back with a frown. “For what? What would be the point?”

“Making us join.”

“Then why not insist on us joining? It's not like we could stop him or the others if they insisted we had to.” Sliding forward, Sideswipe entered the room but kept his back to the wall, helm swiveling this way and that. Orion suspected they all looked a bit odd, gawking at everything like newbuilds instead of the centuries old fighters they were. Sideswipe had to raise his voice a little to be heard. “Jazz could have said we owed him and have to join to pay it back. He only owes Orion after all, not us two.”

Orion agreed, “He seemed pretty upset with Cypher about trying to make us join. I think he meant it about not forcing us.” There, around a wall separating the club area and the entrance, Orion caught sight of some fancy glass doors. He tugged the twins towards them but didn't see Highwire. Were they the wrong doors?

“It could have been an act.” Sunstreaker was not letting go of any suspicions today. Considering how little they understood of what was actually going on, Orion didn't blame him. That paranoia had saved them from scuffles more than once in the past.

“Doubtful.” Highwire appeared behind the trio as they neared the doors, making the ex-gladiators jump.

Sideswipe squawked. “What is with you people and sneaking up on us!?”

“You're easy to sneak up on.” The bot's grin fled as swiftly as it appeared. “Jazz and his generals don't make a habit of employing people against their will. That's a good way to get a knife in your back. Why force people when you can convince them they want to join you?”

“So the debt is serious?” murmured Orion.

A nod. “Definitely. You don't want to owe any big favors around here. And Jazz has too many enemies to owe a life debt to a mech with no loyalty ties to anyone else.” They gave Orion a sharp look. “I won't say the Boss is a nice person, because Primus knows he isn't, but he can be kind. This just happens to be one of the few times he can afford to be.”

That made him feel a little better about the whole situation, even if it still loomed bigger than him. “Thank you.”

“Here,” Highwire pulled some short swords from their subspace and handed them over, followed by two knives each. They were good make, solid and weighty, meant for stabbing. He caught a hint of a pout from Sideswipe. The mech undoubtedly missed his favorite throwing knives, back in the arena's armory. Maybe they could find some here? “I'm sure I don't need to tell you to never go out unarmed.”

“Thanks.” Sunstreaker replied in distraction, testing the edges of his new blades.

“No guns?” His brother tried his patented sad face. It didn't seem very effective as Highwire merely raised an optic ridge.

“I thought you didn't know how to use them?”

With a snort, Orion tucked the blades away in his subspace. “We don't.”

“I'm not about to arm people with weapons they don't know how to use.” They gave Sideswipe a withering look until he switched to charmingly guilty. “Stop that. I've put up with the Boss and everyone else for too long for that to work on me.”

They had to move a bit out of the way as a few customers came in, heading towards the bar. Highwire frowned at the trio, mouth twitching as they looked Outside. “Hm. You're going to need to learn. Eh, they're one of the more popular weapons around here, much better range than a blade. Ask me later when I'm not busy and I might be able to show you.”

“In exchange for?” Orion asked. Considering all the talk about debts, he wasn't about to get them into any trouble with owing. There was a look in Highwire's optics that seemed almost like amusement. Almost.

“You're catching on quick. Maybe you're not stupid after all.” Ignoring the half protest-half offended noises, the bot tipped their helm. “We have some weirder bladed weapons, things from across the planet that none of us know how to wield. I figure you three might. If you can show us how to use some of them, I'll show you how to use a gun.” They held out their servo.

Glancing at the twins, Orion got short nods in return and shook it. “Deal.”

That earned them a real smile. Turning towards the doors, Highwire held one open for them. “Come on then. We've got things to do tonight, like gorgeous paintjobs and laughing at you three.”

Taking a deep vent, Orion stepped out into the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Data Upload:.....initializing:_  
>  _General Information:_  
>  __Consumables_  
>  Onox: Formally, onoxite. A mildly bitter tasting crystal that melts into a gaseous state when introduced to heat. Onox crystals are filtered out of the mouth or vents once melted. The smoke can cool and form smaller crystals which can build up in a bot's systems if not properly cleaned. They are considered more of a candy than a drug.
> 
> [Edgerunner Information](https://darkwalk.tumblr.com/post/643568448719470592/information-on-the-edgerunners-from-lighting-fires)  
> 


	5. March of Progress - MALO

Driving wasn't quite as hard as Orion imagined it would be, but he still managed to drive into a wall. Twice. In his defense, some of the darker shadows looked like alleyways! And all the lights and glowing graffiti messed with his perception of space until the road blended with the walls and edges of buildings merged into weird shapes he couldn't figure out until he actually went over to them.

Sunstreaker also ran over his pedes while figuring out how to backup but it didn't hurt that badly. Even if Sideswipe's howling laughter annoyed the both of them until they lunged at him and the red mech bolted on his wheels. They eventually reached the point where even Highwire's amusement and patience started to run thin.

“Alright, I think you can survive the roads without running over anyone. Just....... don't do anything crazy. We won't be going that far.”

Highwire led them to a busier road and they quickly folded into traffic after the bot in bike mode. Despite several individuals (driving far too fast and taking up most of the road) honking at them, they managed several blocks and a layer up before arriving on a part of the layer that jutted out into empty space. After transforming, Sideswipe wandered over to a railing and hole in the middle of the plaza.

“Come look!” He waved Sunstreaker over. The yellow mech looked down, made a face, and backed up.

“Nope.”

Orion peered over Sideswipe's shoulder and far down at the patchwork of rooftops and movement running along the roads. The hole led down to the layer below them! He leaned closer, trying to see if there were pillars holding everything up. Cities were so much bigger than he thought they'd be. “Cool.”

“You're both crazy.” sighed Sunstreaker.

A smirk curled across Sideswipe's face. “Scared of heights?”

“No. I just have a healthy amount of caution for a fall that could definitely kill me.”

“You don't know that it'll kill you.”

“It will definitely kill you.” Highwire joined in, forcing them towards the building in the back corner of the plaza with holograms of very colorful bots set in the front windows. “Anything higher than four stories is a bad idea unless you have wings, thrusters or a jet pack.”

The trio perked up in interest, even Sunstreaker this time. “Jet pack?”

Highwire looked away. “Forget I said that. We have paint jobs to get, so go into the salon already.”

At the bot's urging, they stepped inside and shuffled around the small front room, glancing between the receptionist and their guide with little idea of how this was supposed to go. Highwire stepped up to talk while Sunstreaker started to examine the holograms more closely. “Hello. We need four full repaints plus detailing. We need one large room, not separate.”

The mech frowned sympathetically. “Our largest room is currently being used. If you could wait just a bit longer, about two breems, they should be wrappin' up soon. I can have Glimmer and her assistants do your work tonight.”

“Perfect, thank you.”

After paying the 'upfront' price, Highwire gestured for them to take a seat in the waiting room. Orion sat on Highwire's right to keep the bot between himself and the two entrances. Too curious to sit, Sideswipe started messing with the holograms, despite the receptionist's annoyed looks. “What's the upfront payment?”

“Half is payed up front so the paint techs aren't running the risk of someone stiffing them. The other half is payed after and can be bargained down if the finished job isn't as good as what the mecha hoped for.” Highwire kept their voice low and tipped their helm back, apparently content to rest for a bit. The other three traded looks and decided to keep their questions for later. Orion pulled out the datapads and info uploads to start going through them.

Halfway through the ones with information about the different cities, several shiny mechs walked out of the inside door to speak to the receptionist. Another bot followed and poked their head out towards their group. “Group of four, large room? We can take you now.”

They held the inside door open for them, and it clicked with a locking noise after they entered the hallway. Sunstreaker twitched at the sound. Following the paint tech, they entered a large room with two raised daises, drains in the floor, and mechanical arms hanging from the ceiling. It didn't look much at all like the paint room at the arena. It almost looked like a medbay instead, bright white light reflecting off the overly clean, if faintly stained, floor and colorful tubs stacked along the walls. He glanced up at the arms and tubing, tracing them across the ceiling to canisters set in the walls.

“Well's Light! Ya'll picked a good time to get a new coatin'!” A glittery red and orange femme finished wiping her servos off by the sink and looked them up and down with a whistle. “Are you the kinda customers I can ask questions to or no?”

Highwire gave her a cool look. “Not this time Glimmer.”

“I never get to ask you questions.” Glimmer rolled red optics before winking at the trio. “How am I supposed to get all the good gossip if I can't ask? Makes my job borin' is what it does. Now, who's first?”

“I'll go first. Whose joining me?” Highwire looked at them, nodding when Sunstreaker edged forward. “Right, you two can go sit and watch.”

The wording of the order didn't escape their paint tech. “First time?”

“Something like that.” They hedged. “Don't go poking into things. Boss is being territorial.”

“Oof. Wouldn't wanna get on his bad side. A'right!” Glimmer clapped her servos together and urged the mecha onto the daises. “'Wire, I'll assume you want your usual, I'm gonna get an assistant on yah in a klik. Now you......” She trailed off as she studied Sunstreaker's faded gold and gray paintjobs, scarred by dents and scratches.

“You have a nice frame.”

Sunstreaker nodded warily in thanks. Still musing, the paint tech turned on a terminal and scanner by Sunstreaker's dais. A hologram of the mech popped up and hovered over the terminal. “Any preference for colors?”

“I want to keep my gold colors, but make it brighter?” He held himself stiffly. “And change my secondary color. This gray looks terrible.”

“Right you are.” She started changing the colors on the hologram, letting Sunstreaker go through options as a couple assistants came in to help Highwire. After a few moments, Sunny looked over at his cellmates.

“What do you think of this?”

Liquid gold coated most of the main plating on the hologram. Everywhere else had shifted to black save for white decorating the upper thighs and part of the forearms. Orion leaned forward to get a better look, noting white and gold detailing winding around the hip-plates and arms. The paintjob looked gorgeous. He wondered what the proper names of the colors were.

“You are a god among mortals” Sideswipe crowed. “No one can ever compare.”

Rolling his optics hard, Orion kicked Sides in the shins. “We love it.”

Glimmer seemed bemused while Highwire snorted, over where a paint tech was removing their base layer. Merely nodding, Sunstreaker looked the hologram over again. “I like this one then.”

“You gotta good optic for color.” Their tech noted.

“They need the Edgerunner protection symbol.” Highwire called. “In blacklight. We don't want them to be seen anywhere but the Darklight.”

With efficient movements, Glimmer and an assistant soon had Sunstreaker's frame cleaned of all it's grime and stripped of it's base coat. While they started fixing the smaller dents and scratches he'd long since gotten used to, the paint techs had a grand time explaining what they were doing and how everything worked. Sunstreaker was very attentive and once the process made clear, only shook his helm with a sigh. “I wish we'd known that before. We've never had our old paint taken off before a repaint.”

“IMPROPER FRAME MAINTENANCE!” Glimmer screeched, whirling around from messing with the spray arms she'd been lowering from the ceiling. “NEVER paint over old paint that's faded out! No wonder ya'll look like this!”

Orion went back to his datapads and uploads as they started painting Sunstreaker. Sideswipe apparently decided the chair wasn't good enough and squished himself on Orion's lap. The bigger mech just adjusted his arms and the datapad so he could still read as Sides lay his helm on Orion's shoulder, turned to watch his twin. “I think I want a darker red, and.... I'll go with the black too. Maybe not as much as Sunny. What are you going to do?”

“I'm not sure.....” Orion thought it over. “I think I'd look weird without my red and blue. Maybe brighten it a bit?”

Partway through Highwire's repaint, Glimmer and one of her assistants switched so she could do the details on Highwire's plating. As the paint tech did the Edgerunner symbols, she asked. “You want the key in the same lighter color?”

“Yes please.”

“It wouldn't need repaintin' if you just got it inset. It don't even hurt that much!” Glimmer adjusted her grip and carefully styled out the complicated knotwork. “I'd be jealous of who did the original if I didn't appreciate the art so much. You gotta tell me who did it sometime.”

A snort. “No one around here. Your business is safe.”

“I think it looks cool!” Sideswipe offered a thumbs up. The corner of Highwire's mouth ticked up at the display. Orion was starting to wonder if Highwire was beginning to like them or just thought they were funny. Their blue and gray paintjob did look much cleaner now.

“Thank you Sideswipe.”

With Highwire done, the bot switched places with Sideswipe, settling in a chair next to Orion as the red mech valiantly tried to hold still while the techs worked. Complaints of 'it tickles!' didn't get him anywhere, much to Orion's amusement. As they waited, Highwire started explaining the difference between their own Edgerunner symbol, the visor with the triangles under it, versus the Edgerunner protection symbol, the visor with a circle around it and how it meant they weren't in the gang but had the Edgerunner's protection. Soon the paint techs finished buffing Sunstreaker and had him turn about under the lights. They brought a mirror down for him to check himself in.

Sideswipe whistled, just barely refraining from clapping with dark looks sent his way from the techs. That didn't stop him from grinning like a madmech. “I would bow as your divinity deserves but I'm afraid I would be cut upon many blades if I dared move!”

“Who taught him to talk like that?” Highwire murmured in surprise.

“This old femme who liked us always talked like that when she told stories about knights and the Thirteen.”

Rolling his optics but obviously pleased, Sunstreaker glanced over at the seated mecha for their opinions. Highwire dipped their helm in approval, commenting that it looked nice. Orion couldn't help the wide smile that crossed his face. Sunstreaker looked like the hologram but even better, light refracting off his plating like he'd been newly forged and dipped in a crystal gloss. He was more vibrant than any bit of sky they'd ever seen. “You look amazing.”

Sunstreaker gave one of his rare quiet smiles.

“Ooooh, you do look delicious.” Almost smirking, Glimmer's optics flickered over his frame in delight before glancing at Sideswipe and Orion. “You're very lucky.”

“Wait- we're not-!” Sunstreaker sputtered as his twin cackled in the background. Orion thought Glimmer was trying to flirt but he could never tell and he hoped she dropped the subject soon. Maybe she just meant it as a compliment because Sunny was really pretty? At least Sideswipe was getting a kick out of it.

She nodded at Orion. “A'right, you're the last one. Come up here.”

Orion tucked his datapad away and passed Sunstreaker to climb up to the dais while Glimmer rinsed her servos. She quickly did a new scan and pulled up Orion. “Any specific colors or wanna try somethin' new? Purple and black are very trendy for large frames right now. It'd look good with your size, oooh, and some yellow highlights too.”

“I like red and blue,” He looked at the color swatches on the right of the screen. “Could I do something brighter though?”

Glimmer started flipping through reds and blues faster than Orion could examine them all. “Hmm. More saturated, you got too much blue on your frame. It's not balancin' well with the red. Why don't we...... how's this?”

On the hologram, the colors of his frame were shifted around so his plating became predominantly red while keeping his lower legs, servos and helm a dark blue. Glimmer fiddled for a moment before marking out a spot on his right shoulder for the gang symbol. He liked the deeper colors and said as much.

“You want any glow or insets?”

“Uh...” What in the world was glow? The glowing decals and paintjobs he'd seen on the other frames running around? Insets sounded like decals but carved into the plating and that sounded painful. “No, I'm good. Thank you.”

Glimmer tisked. “You're so polite! You wanna ask your conjux what they think?”

“Amicas.” He murmured, before called over to the twins. “Sides, Sunny, what do you think?” He moved out of the way enough for them to see. Sideswipe, still prone on the other dais as the techs finished up with him, couldn't seem to stop smiling.

“That looks nice!”

Sunstreaker tipped his helm a bit, studying it. “It does look much better. Is the red saturated enough?”

“Yeah. I don't want it too bright.” He didn't want to draw more attention to them than they already were. Sunstreaker seemed to understand, nodding in acceptance. Satisfied, Orion turned back to Glimmer. “I'm good with this.”

Standing still while having his old paint scoured off was difficult as it did indeed tickle. Orion refused to say a thing or so much as twitch as he knew Sides would take that as incentive to tease him about it. He fell into his own mind for awhile, running over the information the uploads had given him and sorting it out. City names, maps of the main roads in Polyhelix, industries and jobs and what was available to each caste and glyphs and words and.... It was a lot. The reading program brought a little spark of joy with it though. He could read now!

Perhaps he could find someone else who could use the reading upload he had hidden on him.

When Glimmer and her assistants started to finish, Orion came back to the present and noted both twins seated and whispering over a datapad. Highwire looked like they were recharging. They lifted their helm as Glimmer called out.

“All done!” She ushered everyone back and gestured for him to spin. “You're as pretty as a picture! What do you think?”

It had been a very long time since Orion had had a good look at himself in a mirror. When the glass came down, he nearly startled. A polished stranger stared out at him.

The only hint of a gladiator that Orion could see lay in the indecipherable wariness in his optics, the faint scar splitting one side of his mouth. The red rust of misuse and old energon had fled from his servos, the scratches from previous fights hidden under paint. It felt like a mask. It didn't feel like him at all. He looked clean, shiny. He could have been anyone they'd passed on the way here, another face in the audience, even with a visor in a circle glowing softly on his shoulder.

Unease flitted against his plating before he tamped it down and tried to smile for Glimmer. “It's nice. Thank you.”

“You're welcome!” She cheered, ushering him back to the others. “It's always a pleasure workin' for the Edgerunners, even if I can't gossip with you! You're one of our best customers.” Glimmer laughed and waved as the group thanked everyone and headed back towards the front. While Highwire paid the rest to the receptionist, Sideswipe bumped his hip and leaned over to whisper.

“You do look nice, you know. We all do.” True to his word, Sideswipe hadn't gone with as much black as his twin, opting for more white and vibrant red with some black underplating. The Edgerunner protection symbol glowed on his hip, opposite to Sunstreaker's own symbol.

“I think I look the best.” Sunstreaker murmured, taking stock of all their frames before catching himself. “Not that I'm trying to say you both don't look good too.”

Orion snickered, some of the anxiety melting away. “It's okay. We know what you meant. You do look the best.” He shared an amused look with Sideswipe as Sunstreaker quietly preened. “What color are you? Is it gold?”

“Golden yellow and pure black.” His optics lit up in excitement. “Glimmer explained the basic colors while she was working. Sideswipe, you're pure red and black and Orion, yours are maroon and medium blue.”

“Time to go.” Highwire started out the door and held it for them. “I've been awake for too long and I need a nap. Someone else can give you a tour later.”

They headed back a different way, following traffic down a ramp and then up a bridge before winding back around to the club. Along the way, Orion recalled what he'd been meaning to ask and commed Highwire. _//So... how does the Darklight handle casteless?//_

 _//I get the feeling Jazz doesn't care what caste we're in.//_ Sideswipe honked when a mech tried to shove him out of his lane. Engine roaring, Sunstreaker edged up and made the mech back off.

Highwire hummed. _//Do you know what the castes are?//_

 _//Yeah, we know them. Casteless are people without records, like us.//_ Sideswipe replied. _//Some of the guards liked to rub it in that even if we escaped we'd still be caught and dragged to a processing facility for not having records.//_

There was a stony silence as their guide took that in. _//You don't have to worry about that so much here. Just to make sure you understand, high caste is authority positions like the Council or City leaders but also the Nobles. And some larger corporations too. Mid caste are what would be considered 'the normal people' but that includes some lower ranking government workers and military groups. And low caste is labor. There's a new- eh, new-ish, law that low caste have to give valid reasons when moving between cities. So they tend to get stopped and asked questions now when they try to cross over.//_

 _//Now casteless....//_ Another sigh, _//The processing facilities are a big concern but most of the Darklight is casteless or low caste and everyone tends to carry fake records anyway. I'm sure Jazz is getting you some so do the sensible thing and don't catch the enforcers' attention right now. Not that you should ever catch their attention.//_

 _//Are people around here going to sell us out for that?//_ Sunstreaker asked.

 _//Not for being casteless. The enforcers have bigger concerns than hunting down a couple people without records in a city full of people without real records.//_ They started to slow as the drivers ahead of them bunched up, stopping to transform and hover in a crowd in front of some shops. Highwire drew to a stop and transformed, frowning at the pedestrians. “What is everyone looking at?”

“A fight?” Sideswipe murmured, hopping to his pedes and stretching to see over helms.

Their guide shook their helm, “Darklight fights usually have music. All I hear is swearing.”

Before they could continue to guess, the crowd broke in a wave as a body fell their way. Orion and the others quickly shifted out of it's path. He looked up to see a slagged off blue femme with wheels on her back holding a mug in one servo and a long-handled axe in the other. Even as another mech rushed her from behind, the femme gulped down whatever was in the mug, turned to smack it into her opponent's face, and swept his pedes out from under him with the blunt end of her weapon. He went down with a thud. The previously downed bot managed to get up and took a swing only to be blocked. Pulling them close, the femme rolled the bot over her hip and slammed them into the road. A wave of disjointed cries, some booing, some cheering, swept through the crowd. Orion glanced at Highwire to judge what they should be doing, if anything at all, and found their optic ridges raised in surprise.

When the two downed mecha didn't get up, the femme turned to the crowd and raised her voice. “Sorry everybody. Show's over!”

“I thought the fights had music?” Sunstreaker murmured.

Highwire's expression sharpened. “They do. She's not Darklight.” Striding forward, the bot edged up to the stranger while still keeping a respectable distance from the axe. “So what is a knight doing down here?”

“A knight?!” Sideswipe practically squealed, drawing wide optics from Highwire and the knight before he coughed and looked away with warming faceplates. Orion playfully bumped his elbow and only got an embarrassed swat for his efforts. They'd thought knights were made up, like the Rust Wastes. He wondered what else was real out here in the world.

Watching the dissipating crowd, the femme inclined her helm towards them. “I don't know how everyone around here seems to know that I'm a knight. I wasn't going around telling anyone.”

“Knights don't come down here.” Highwire shrugged. “So it's a pretty big deal and people talk. Makes everybody wonder what someone like you is doing in a place like this.” Even as they spoke, they turned cool optics on a few shifty frames who hovered inconspicuously nearby. A couple edged away at the look. Another few only winked cheerfully back.

The femme rolled her optics and used her axe handle to pick up the dropped mug. “I was enjoying some lovely highgrade until some people decided my presence offended them. Before that, I was looking for the Edgerunners. This is the right territory, isn't it?” Her optics lit on their symbols.

“And why would you want to speak to the Edgerunners? Burning Blade are the most likely to let you wander without consequences.”

“I wanted to ask permission to move through this territory.” She explained. “I'm looking for an old friend who I believe is around here but it's slow going and I thought the ganglord would appreciate me asking for permission.”

Optic ridges rose again in surprise. “What is to stop the ganglord from killing you for trespassing?”

“Nothing, I suppose. Is it trespassing if I ask first?”

Highwire remained blank, thoughts hidden for a long moment before nodding. “I can take you to him. Don't expect a warm welcome.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.” Came a dry reply as Highwire once again transformed and started to lead them back to the club. The femme folded down into a large two-wheeler and fell in behind their guide with the trio picking up the rear. Sideswipe started to bounce on his wheels.

_//Are you really a knight?!//_

_//I'm not related to him.//_ deadpanned Sunstreaker.

The femme chuckled, drowning out Highwire's sigh. _//Yes, I'm a knight. Chromia, of the Order of Thorns.//_ The rest of the traffic gave them a bit of a berth, perhaps because of their larger party size, perhaps because everyone could see Chromia wasn't Darklight. Her paintjob seemed fairly plain under the reflected neon of the billboards and streetlights they passed. The trio at least had Jazz's symbol on them. And even Highwire's muted colors were marked in cyan decals.

_//That is so cool! What do knights do?! Do you go on quests and fight monsters? Do you know how to use a sword? Are there other knights? Where is the Order of Thorns Temple-//_

_//SIDESWIPE!//_ They seemed to have found the end of Highwire's patience.

Falling immediately silent, Sideswipe edged back, closer to the others and away from their guide. Sunstreaker nudged him to the middle, putting himself between the bot and his brother. A heavy silence descended on them. Orion was willing to give Highwire the benefit of the doubt, and that they were snappish from being tired, but that didn't mean the trio wasn't going to be watching the bot a little more closely for awhile.

Highwire coughed politely and tried again. _//A bit too much.//_

 _//As much as I like answering questions from younglings,//_ Chromia chimed in, _//my memory isn't that perfect. How about one or two questions?//_

 _//We're not younglings.//_ insisted Sunstreaker.

 _//Alright.//_ She didn't sound like she believed them. _//You asked what knights do? It depends on the order. Mine is based in the Tyger Pax Sigma temple and I usually work with the patrols by Insecticon territory near the Manganese mountains.//_

 _//Do you ever fight the insecticons? Is your favorite weapon an axe? Orion is good with axes.//_ Quieter than before and much slower, Sideswipe's curiosity crept back in. Orion gently nudged the mech's bumper, feeling self conscious about being called out. He did miss the big war axes at the arena though. They were nice weapons.

They pulled to a stop by the club, apparently entering through the front this time. From here, Orion could see a large sign spelling out 'JOYRIDE' above their helms in swooping purple glyphs. As they all transformed, Chromia looking them over curiously. “Sometimes, although usually the Insecticons stay away from the border. And yeah, axes are my favorite.” Her focus was drawn away as Highwire tapped a servo against the door impatiently. “I think we'll have to save more questions for later.”

As they headed inside, Highwire paused to glance back at the three of them. “Do whatever you want now, but I need to take care of this and then I'm recharging. So you can stay down here in the club or ask Stillbite to get someone to show you your rooms. He's over by the bar.”

“Thank you Highwire.” A quick glance did indeed show the familiar large frame slinging out drinks. Orion dipped his head, unsure if that was enough to show their appreciation and hoping the bot would forget their ire soon. They harrumphed a reply and waved before leading the knight away. The trio looked at each other with subdued glances.

“I'm kinda tired.” Orion admitted as he shifted closer to the wall.

Sunstreaker nodded, “We should probably rest.”

“The party looks fun though,” his brother pouted, watching the bodies moving across the floor. “I wish I knew how to dance.”

“Maybe one of the others will show us. We really need to recharge.” insisted Sunstreaker. Acquiescing, Sideswipe followed him over to the bar while Orion trailed behind.

They'd been awake too long and his processor still churned over the massive amounts of information they'd acquired so recently. Recharge would do them some good. And maybe tomorrow would be even better.

As they came over, a black streak raced past their pedes and scaled up onto the counter. The trio stared in quiet amazement. They'd never seen a photovoltaic cat before. It turned unimpressed optics on them before stretching, a yawn showing off it's fangs. Noticing, Stillbite wandered over and picked up the suddenly strutless pile of plating to cradle in his arms. “This here is Arson and she can be a real menace if she doesn't like you.”

“Can we pet her?” Sideswipe sidled closer, gaze never wavering from the little beast.

The barmech chuckled and stood close so the mech could carefully run his fingers down her spine, the others taking a turn. She was surprisingly warm. Although she seemed content to ignore them, she did start purring as Sideswipe continued to give her scritches. “She likes me!”

“You named a cat 'Arson'.” Orion smiled as he stepped back out of the way. Sideswipe looked so excited and even Sunstreaker was thoroughly distracted by the little beast, although his gaze skipped a couple times to the colorful bottles on the wall behind the barmech.

“Good name for a cat. Some would call her our mascot.” He replied, “I saw Highwire slip by, ya'll hanging out?”

As the twins distracted Stillbite with questions about the wall of bottles, powders, and liquids, Orion let his attention wander for a moment. It caught on a lone datapad left on the counter. Edging over, he kept one optic on Stillbite's conversation and the other on the pad. Turning it on, he worked through the first few lines of glyphs and realized it was something about magic artifacts and a frazzled museum curator. Someone had left a story!

A quick glance around showed no one close enough to really claim it as theirs. Had someone forgotten it? Orion wavered, fighting the urge to leave it alone because he knew it wasn't his but if someone lost it.... And they might not even be coming back for it....

The want to have a story won out over caution. If they'd left it in such a crowded public place then they obviously didn't care too much about it, he reasoned. And besides, he would return it once he finished it.

With another quick check to make sure no one was watching, Orion shifted to block the datapad from view and slipped it into the armor pocket inside his forearm. The pad just barely fit, brushing against the reading upload. Just as he forced himself to relax, Sideswipe turned back to him. “Hey, he's getting a runner to show us the way. I don't know what runner means.”

“I think it's a ranking. A low one.” Answered Sunstreaker. His optics flickered over Orion. “Did you zone out?”

“A little.” Orion replied. He'd show them the story when they were in their room. “It's loud in here.”

The runner showed up only a moment later, and with a cheery farewell from Stillbite, they headed to their room to rest. The day had been long, so long, and the last time they'd had a spare moment to themselves was before they'd broken out with Jazz. And while he really liked just how interesting and new everything Outside was, Orion felt they were long overdue a proper recharge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Orion's Internal Log:_  
>  __Darklight slang_  
>  Glow: glowing decals or a blacklight paintjob. Very popular in the Darklight.  
> Insets: a type of decal where lines are scraped out of the plating and filled with various metals, much like a  
> tattoo. Takes a long time before needing reapplication so they last much longer than painted on decals.

**Author's Note:**

> Link to head canons and snippets: [TOGETHER AU](https://darkwalk.tumblr.com/tagged/tgau)


End file.
